Six Foot Deep
by eckles
Summary: Dawn has an opportunity to study with her idol, Lara Croft. And Buffy decides to tag along as the next adventure of her sister's Hero happen's to be directly linked to the Slayer Origin. But a deeper mystery is why is Lara now calling herself Mrs Harris?
1. Chapter 1

She glanced casually over the room. It was tiny, but despite its dimensions in 'smallness' it was also very comfortable. Not showy or exaggerated, just practical and within reason.

Surrounding her was a room lacking in glamour but offering an abundance of necessity only. There was a desk, a small kitchenette consisting of a mini bar fridge and a microwave oven, a built in wardrobe and a bed. Nothing outlandish or overdone. She supposed the overly protective sister in her should have been horrified at the Spartan-ess of it all and preferred more space and amenities, but instead all she felt the glow of pride. True her own accommodations at Sunnydale College had three times the room, but that excess room was occupied by nothing but vacentness and it made her own loneliness more pronounced. Casting her eye over the distance of corner to corner her mouth started to tug upwards; it was not right for her to compare SC to Oxford because in truth there was no comparison. When Dawn had been accepted as a student on a full Watcher's Scholarship, Buffy had to admit she supported doubts whether her baby sister could manage the pressure and the reputation forever linked to this world famous institute of higher learning. The Giles and the Council might have been able to pull some strings to get her a place within the ivy covered walls, whether or not Dawn was able to keep herself there, well, that really depended on her. But two years on and her sibling's grades remained steady and sitting comfortably in the top 15-percent of all her classes. She was even making some headway into becoming a known, if not small and independent voice, within the archaeological department of the esteemed campus. Yes, no doubt about it, her baby sister was achieving everything she had set out to achieve and despite the obstacles that had placed themselves in her way over the several years of her existence, little 'Dawn Patrol' Summers was finding a path singular to her alone and not one that trailed in the footsteps of her Slayer big sister.

Without meaning too, the most accomplished Vampire and Demon Hunter in human history paced the cosy and worn path from bed to desk and back again, spanning all of eight feet in her limited journey. Doing her best to try and exercise in her mind the lifestyle her sister had chosen to pursue over her own. The walls before her had scatterings of boy band poster's and pictures from glossy magazines of the latest on-screen hottie. A smirk grew over her smile as she spied in the corner the latest 'Twilight' Poster and realising that it had been converted into a target for several darts. Dozens of dimples and divots were easily noticeable on the papered forehead and faces of _Edward, Bella_ and _Jacob_.

On the desk that sat in front of the only window in the room laid a laptop surrounded by several photographs. Two of the pictures were of herself, one with the Colosseum in the background. One image was of Giles sitting behind a large mahogany table. Three of Willow and Kennedy standing in an embrace during the happier moments of their tumultuous relationship and one token picture of Andrew. The eighth photograph was not of a person however, it was infact a Post Card of an expansive tundra at sunset. A giraffe and the darken outline of a mother and baby elephant in the far off distance roving together under the redding sun, a standard comment in bold italic print across the front of the bordered image of _'Wish you were here.'_ It did not take too many brain cells to work out who had sent this to her. Errantly she picked up the Post Card and stared adorning into the image in front of her face.

The visual absence of the missing male Scooby face from this collection of friends and 'family' smiling features pained her heart at the acknowledgement of it loss. It had now been years since everyone went their separate ways. After Sunnydale and the destruction of the Hellmouth, then Cleveland, the team were all given their choice of Assignment. For herself and Willow the decision was one easily made. Will and Kennedy selected Rio de Janeiro and she picked out Rome. To say that the resident father figure was disappointed with their choices was an understatement. Giles had secretly supported hopes that both his 'daughters' would chose to remain in Merry Old with him and help rebuild the Slayer Organisation anew. That his offering of worldwide locales, accommodation, and a stable AND excessive weekly salary would be declined with grace. It was, in his line of thinking, a generous gesture that would never be exploited by the pair. But to his surprise and sorrow he proved himself wrong.

Looking back on the moment now, Buffy had to admit that both she and Will felt that they needed a break from the things that went bump in the night. That it wasn't so much of an _'indulgence'_, as Giles had put it, in as it was an escape. The fact that their chosen objectives were considered the Party Capital of the World and the origin of everything true and pure in fashion and sophistication was just a bizarre coincidence. Xander on the other hand was the only one of the three who took the Senior Watcher's offer seriously, much to the staggered disappointment of herself, Willow and Dawn. Afterall, if there was anyone in their quartet who needed a sizable break from dealing with the supernatural and anything Slayery in nature it was, in their collective opinion, Xander. He had lost much during the destruction of the Hellmouth. His eye first and then the life of someone he loved. Anya's death haunted him and it didn't take _Dr Phil_ for everybody to work out that he had held himself responsible for it. Willow tried to employ armchair psycho-babble by telling him that choosing the hardships of Africa would do nothing to ease his soul at his sense of guilt, but all this did was make him make puns. It was his standard defensive and they all knew it well. Make jokes so that no-one would know how scared, lonely on in pain you really were. The badder the humour, the more fragile he truly was. When he started straying into _'letting his inner hyena come out and stretch his legs'_ on the Serengeti Plains, well, everybody around him who knew how much the 'Hyena' Episode 8-years earlier had truly affected him were not finding their funny bone. Instead of sharing in his forced and canned laughter or it did was have people exchange worried looks.

With Willow's approach striking out she decided to wait a day and then try an alternative option that was always her popular fallback whenever Xander was planning to do something she disapproved of. It was the _tough love_ angle, and though it sometimes had the tendency of blowing up in her face, desperate times called for desperate actions in her opinion. She had cornered him in the new Watcher's Library as he was restacking burned and chard books that had been rescued from the old and now demolished building. She drew him to the far side of the room, away from prying eyes and a hasty and available exit, she then proceeded to tell him that he was not up to the challenge of managing all of African Territory all by himself and for him to be more realistic towards his own capabilities. She then began drumming home the point that if he found himself in danger this time that there would not be a Willow or a Slayer within a thousand miles who could come to his rescue. That if he chose to do this that he would be doing it on his own.

Then: *BOOM*.

To be honest, as soon as she crossed that line she pretty much knew what she would be expecting. That little ultimatum of hers ended up being as popular as syphilis at a 'Swingers Convention' and it lead to an exchange of words that still haunted some of her nightmares even to this day. She had known he resented the group's earlier decision, one made in their third year together, to distance him from some of their selective adventures whilst at the same time she and Giles drew Willow and Oz closer to the fold. How could she not? But she never really appreciated the depths of his anger until that moment when all guises were off. He hated that the two of them had always nurtured Willow's curiosity for magic, dark AND white, and yet at the same time freely dismissed any opportunities for him to 'grow' as a combatant in their care. He challenged her memory, taking it to dark places, stating that every success he had as a fighter against Vamps and Demons alike, as a defender, he learnt on his own and with only the experience of bruises and repeated beatings being his teacher. That Giles and she could not spare 5-minutes to show him how to use a sword properly, but the Englishman had hour upon hour to spend hunched over a dusty old book teaching Willow incantations and her touching up her nails for her midnight date with the souled vamp. That she lost any right to stand before him now at instruct him that he wasn't good 'enough' when it was her and Giles who made that decision years earlier not to *MAKE* him good enough. That he survived the Hellmouth and Cleveland without her advice and that he could survive Africa just the same.

Her legs felt as though they were crumbling beneath her, but she aligned herself with the wall and allowed it to offer her its support. She saw his frustration and anger and she saw the righteousness of his fury as he recapped their lives. The Mayor, ADAM, Dark Willow, Glory or even The First, it was always Xander who was the one that would make a sizeable contribution which ended up saving the day and in so doing also save … the World. He was not just her 'Key Guy', he was *THE* 'Key Guy' in nearly every success. During the Battle of the Hellmouth, sure it was her, Faith, Willow, Spike and Giles who had the rank and rep as the 'Heavy Hitters'. But it was Xander who the Potential's, or baby-Slayer's as Faith would call them, looked too for inspiration and to force the fears they were feeling away. It was him who was the example that they could all survive what they were all about to face. Xander was the 'normal' they all trusted to make the tough and big calls, just like their Graduating Class during the Mayor's Ascension. To them it was Xander who had called the retreat at the Vineyard. An attack that was her plan and her failure. It was Xander that ended up saving many Potential lives that night, even at the cost of his own eye. In the span of 48-hours after that failed initiative of hers, and as he laid in a Hospital bed, in the whispers of the multi-mattressed bedrooms that made up the Summer's Home, stories of his courage swelled to near mythic levels by those who had bared witness to it. From one Baby-Slayer to the next, Xander became like a hero from Greek Mythology; of coarse throw in some of Anya's additional stories of 'Viking-hood' and his Norse-like stamina under the sheets and collectively it was enough to have the most hardened 16-year old blush and daydream of what might be … if they survived of coarse. Even now, four years on from Sunnydale, Baby-Slayer's who had never met him giggle and blush at the stories that are told and have grown to exaggerated proportions by those who had the chance too fight beside him during the battle with 'The First'. He was the Snake Piskin of the Demon World.

Xander never faltered, he never gave up, and he never wished he was someone else or that he had some other destiny. He kept true to the course. He was truer to the title of 'Slayer' then she ever was and if it wasn't for the fact that he had a penis, he probably would have been. He was by far one of the bravest people she had ever met. He fought without excess strength, without magic, without curse or without physically enhancing 'vitamins'. He fought the fight because if he didn't then he doubted anyone one else would. He had done so much for everyone she loved and cared about and he did it without complaint or desire for anything in return or recognition. So what did she try to do? She compare his abilities to that of Andrew.

He left that Library back then with a grim and determined frown as she began to sink to the tiled floor in tears, surrounded with regret towards the damaging of a friendship that was more valuable to her then gold and diamonds. They had never fought one another as hard as this before. But given the stakes of what might have happened to him if she had backed down, she had no problem with being despised as long as he stayed safe and healthy. She just wished that it didn't hurt as bad as it did.

On the second day post his announcement Dawn took a try and was the one who came closest to getting him to change his mind. Maybe it was because she had, the day before, whittled down his defences or maybe because instead of going on the 'attack' her little sister chose the more passive route. Pleading for him not to go with her doe-like eyes full of tears caused him to falter and if it wasn't for Giles 'accidentally' stepping into the room at that particular moment to throw in his nickel's worth of pride then the waterworks of her younger sibling would have won out. Afterall, if there was one thing in the world that was Xander's kryptonite it was the tears of any of _'his Girls'_.

For the month prior to his departure date to the Dark Continent, Giles strutted around the fresh Hall's of the Council like a proud father and it was, in truth, more then she, Dawn and Willow could bear. Not because of Giles attitude, but because with each passing day they were both becoming more and more aware of the various dangers Xander would be facing and of the enormity of the task he had willingly placed before himself. Africa was a destination rife with civil unrest, a place where bloody politics and allegiances changed with every would be 'tin-pot' dictator that took control. Xander would be travelling alone into regions where to do so was unheard of and it was considered by many hardened and experienced explorers to be in itself a self-imposed death sentence.

In those remaining four weeks efforts were repeatedly made to make their favourite Xander-shaped-friend aware of their many misgivings, but he dismissed them all casually away. It seemed that her earlier effort to dissuade him by _'revealing the truth that everybody all believed'_ him not capable to the task of finding the origin point of the First Slayer had sadly set into place Xander's notorious stubbornness. Whereas Willow and Dawn had come close to changing his mind, her own independent efforts had had the opposite and most lasting effect. Xander was now going to Africa not to prove himself right, but rather to prove her, Buffy Summer's, wrong. Eventually she gave up the hardline she had taken earlier and instead tried her own pleas and waterworks, begging him to listen to reason. She even invited him to come to Rome with her, asking him to put his plans on hold for just a single month more so he could see what opportunities he would be missing out on if he went. Her thoughts being that the two would have a holiday together, spend a few weeks or so in each other's company, and who knew maybe the thought of hot and cold running Italian babe's would win out over sweltering heat and famine. Strangely enough the stray possibility of having Xander share an apartment with her back then did not seem all that bad; she was actually starting to convince herself towards the goodness of this plan. Unfortunately Andrew was within hearing distance of her proposal and had chosen to invite himself into her private inducement claiming that it all sounded to him to good an offer to turn down. With Andrew now onboard and chatting about him and Xander being room-mates, well, Xander's on-the-fence thought of living in the historic city of Rome with her suddenly lost all it's appeal.

The day he eventually departed was a solemn occasion for all and though he had forgiven her for what she had said to him in the new Library weeks earlier, tensions still existed on the subject of him going. The three 'girls' who had the deepest claim on his heart all united in their collective decision to remain at the Watcher's Council. Choosing to not see him off. The void of their presence amongst Andy and the only man he had looked unto as a father at the Departure Gate of Heathrow spoke silent volumes that he did not have their blessing on this grand adventure and expedition. When Giles eventually returned from seeing Xander away the distain and contempt he had for all of them showed clearly in his smokey blue eyes and it refused to migrate away for a long time. Even now, after all these past few years all it would take is an errant reminder from one of the three to enquire about Xander's well being to initiate a momentary chill.

Willow lasted only a fortnight before she crumbled and tried to make contact and restitution to her childhood friend, Dawn's own resolution faltered a week after that. But herself? Even after three years she had yet to initiate contact. In that time Xander had made many discoveries and had many adventures. Earning repeated demonstrations of pride from the man whose approval, she knew, Xander always secretly yearned for. Each grand discovery would have Giles puff out his chest and talk down to the many trainee-Watchers he was now responsible for. Using the former Sunnydalian as an example for what they could all accomplish if they had half the nerve that his surrogate son possessed. But as great as Xander's successes were she always heard of these assorted accomplishments third hand and the various titbits that were shared were usually aged by weeks and months. Buffy could not help but suspect that this was a subtle effort to force her to break the silence and for her to finally forgive Xander for leaving against her wishes. The trouble was Xander had never done anything that warranted the need to be forgiven. It was she who was in the wrong and deep in her heart she knew that Xander knew this as well. And as such that it would not be him to be the one to lay down the olive branch of peace. Her isolation from him was not, as Willow, Giles and Dawn believed a _'relief from his stupidity'_ as it was more a self imposed punishment for having doubted him. She sliced herself out of his life because she now felt that he no longer needed her.

He had accomplished so much in Africa, that he had long since proven his capabilities to her and everyone else to who had earlier doubted, right to the point that she now wondered that if they had been strangers who met casually on the street would they have enough in common to even become friends? Over the past decade, changes had been made within the ranks of the original Scooby's. Willow was once a Jewish and mousish bookworm and computer geek, now she was an all powerful and confident Lesbian Wicca. Angel, who was always so mysterious and tormented presently behaved casual and possessing even of a sense of humour … on a good day. Giles had changed as well, he had become less wishy-washy then the first time she had met him when she could easily manipulate him with a pout. As for herself? She had died twice, stopped a dozen Armageddon's, slept with two vampires and an immortal being. But had she learned anything from these experiences? No. At least she didn't think so, she still kept making the same mistakes, going first with her gut reaction to things before she ever tried to listen to what her head was telling her. But Xander? He surpassed them all in personal growth. The guy who was once the Class Clown was now the guy that when he spoke, a hundred pairs of ears perked up to listen without question or hesitation. He had now become the one who everybody took seriously. Not Willow. Not Faith. Not herself. Him. The true tragedy of it all though was he did not know of it, he was all the way in Africa so he was not aware of the impact he was making. He did not hear Giles gush during the monthly meetings over newly discovered Demon's that had now been made Allies because of Xander's diplomacy. Or of the discovery of spells and enchantments so rare that Witchdoctors and Shaman's for a hundred generations refused to share with anyone outside of their own tribe and people, until now of course. Until Xander came into their midst. The Zeppo had even discounted half a wall of tomes and texts in the new Watcher Library as nothing more then 'Baloney', information that had been revered as truth for centuries had now been exposed as pointless ravings and nonsense. She had even heard on the grape vine of last years Potentials all getting drunk one night and all having a tattoo strategically placed on some body part of theirs with the letters: 'WWXD?', meaning 'What Would Xander Do?' He was guiding and making so many people proud and he didn't even know he was even doing it.

True, she came close to contacting him on his birthday last year when she felt this 'feud' had gone on long enough and also when she discovered he had gotten the sharp end of a machete during an investigation of a Witch Doctor Scam in Botswana. The latter incident was relayed to her an easy month and a half after the event so even though her insides were spinning out of control with nausea at the thought of his near death experience as though it was current she was equally relieved to know that he survived and was back on his feet and out in the Field once more. She often wondered if she *had* contacted him at that point, six-weeks after the attack, if it would only have illustrated to the one-eyed adventurer how out of the loop she had now chosen to be where his fate was involved. So instead of embarrassing herself she continued instead offering an air of indifference even though on the inside her tears were drowning her soul at being so harshly disconnect from his life. It was at this time of the 'Machete Incident', which she now referred to it as, that things between herself and the 'Immortal' took a sour turn. How could someone blessed, or cursed, with eternal youth truly understand the frailties of life in general? In actuality he didn't. He hardly showed any indication that he even gave a damn. He had outlived a thousand lovers and seen a hundred dynasties rise and fall, so what was the fate of one handicapped carpenter playing Indiana Jones? His lack of sympathy for the near loss of life to someone she treasured was the last straw in an already strained relationship. The 'old' her would have tried to find excuses and eventually blame, of all people, Xander for the destruction of her relationship. But for good or bad, Italy and 'Morby', helped change that type of narrow perspective, so maybe she had evolved a little since her Scooby days after all?

When she first arrived in Rome, she set off to take down the biggest name in the place to help establish her reputation of not being someone to mess with. That person was 'The Immortal'. Instead of trying to test the theory of whether or not he could truly not die, she instead succumbed to his charms and abilities to seduce. Even though everyone was telling her to avoid him like the plague she jumped into the dating scene with the Immortal with complete and full understanding of what she was getting into. Knowing that at worst it would be no different to the various heartaches she had had with Angel or Spike, at best that it would be a temporary arrangement. In the beginning she used to kid herself by falling asleep and image Xander having gotten word about her new relationship and then do the Xander-ish thing and swoop in and try and save her from herself. Just like he tried to do when she started seeing Angel and when he found out about Spike and her. But no swooping was to be had.

She knew from the Immortal's reputation that he barely ever stayed with one lover for more than five years at a time. So knowing that this relationship had an expiry date helped her enjoy the moment even more and enjoy it she did. With full gusto. Clubbing every night, dinners in the best restaurant's Rome could offer. Slaying eventually started to slip in favour to maintaining a social life. But Morby's indifference to Xander when she discovered he had been seriously injured, well, how could not be with someone like that, even if it was just for three more years?

"Sorry. So sorry. Professor Crawford had to speak to me after his lecture and I kinda got caught up with the bigness of his news." Like of tornado of chestnut hair, Dawn entered her room, threw her satchel onto the bed and enveloped her elder sister in a hug. "I'm so glad they let you wait for me in my room. I hope the House Master didn't give you a hard time. She can be a real Nazi with visitor's loitering around the common area."

Buffy returned the embrace. "Are you kidding me? I've stared down Primordial Evil; do you really think a middle aged woman in a tweed skirt sporting an attitude can faze me?" Buffy then hugged Dawn once more for good measure, taking extreme comfort in the contact that had been denied her for close to a year.

"Well you probably caught her on a good say then, because I've seen some Mom's and Dad's leave her presence in tears. So I have to ask, and I'm sorry if it's nosy, but what are you doing back in London? You were pretty sketchy with the details when to telephoned the other day."

"Looking for a change. Rome has started to become a little … tiring since my break-up with the Immortal, that and it's hard for the denizens of Darkness to take a Slayer seriously when they find out you sleep in an Elmo nightie. I don't have to slay 'em, then end up giving themselves heart attacks from laughing so hard. So as my Year Review is around the corner and Mr Rupert Giles: Head Watcher has been on my case for the last month and a half about my slay-ratio. Well, I thought I would kill two birds with the one stone. Get the yelling out of the way and maybe ask for a re-assignment away from Italy."

"Any idea's on where that would be?"

"Dunno. I liked the weather, reminded me a bit of California. But way too many people, y'know. There were more tourists in Rome then Roman's."

"You mean Italians."

"Whatever. I was just thinking of someplace warm, isolative and where I can hear myself think, y'know."

In the briefest of seconds Dawn's face lost all colour as her eyes grew with steely anger as they strayed down to her sister's hand and then up to the blonde's face. "Don't you dare! You better not be thinking what I think your thinking." Dawn then stalked across the small space and stared harshly at the other female, her gaze demanding a direct reply.

Buffy's brow crunched in confusion to the sudden shift in mood. How it had gone from pleasant to Icelandic in less time then it took a heart to beat. "What the Hell do you mean?!?"

"You can't just waltz in, bat your eyes at Giles and steal Xander's posting from under him. How could you do that to him after everything he's done there. But then again that would be just like you, wouldn't it? Let other people do all the work and just as everything is about to pay off you meander into Town, shout out that 'I'm the Slayer' and steal all the glory and the recognition for yourself!" The younger sister then snatched out of her grasp the Post Card that she had been absently holding and returned it to the front of the arrangement of photographs on her desk.

Realisation washed over the Chosen One. "NO! No. I would never do that! I was just snooping and I saw his Post Card to you and then kinda got lost in a few thoughts before you came it. But I would never, EVER do that to him. Not in a Billion Years. I was actually referring to perhaps getting a posting to Spain. Y'know, give Roseanne a change of address. Her slaying rate this year is nearly as bad as mine at the moment, so I didn't think Giles would see it as a major hassle for swapping one Slayer who was in the slumps with another. Y'know shakes things up a bit, new start, and new Slaying life."

Dawn's eyes narrowed, trying to determine the honesty of the words being provided to her. "No Africa?"

Buffy rapidly shook her head in the negative. "Absolutely not. Besides Africa is a big continent, Dawn. Even if I was to go there I doubt Xan would have any problems keeping his distance. Anyway, he's Giles 'Golden Boy', no way in Hell he'd take his best researcher and Demon Hunter out of his comfort zone."

"You got that right" Dawn sighed and relaxed a bit, a small smile stretching itself across her impish face. "'G' would have to be dead and five-years buried before the Council would even consider it. He says that Xander is the 21st Century version of Alan Quartermain."

"Who?"

Dawn smirked, letting the question slide knowing that it would most likely begin driving her elder sister crazy shortly. "But honestly, he wouldn't care if you were assigned there or not."

"I hope so. Because Buffy needs to be in Barcelona. If Giles shakes his head and says the whole _'You asked for Rome, you're getting Rome'_ deal, then I don't know what I'm gonna do."

"No. Not Giles, Xander. He wouldn't care if you two were in Africa together. He'd only care if you tried to take it away from him."

"But he hates my guts."

Dawn flopped down onto her bed and rubbed her temples, preparing herself for the standard juvenile angst that typically came out of her sister's mouth when she forgot she was supposed to be the older of the two of them. "Since when? He always asks how your doing when I chat to him, you never call him yourself so I'm left relaying the personal stuff. By the way, he's tickled pink that you kicked 'The Immortal' to the curb, or as he calls him, 'Mr Pretentious'. He worries about you, Buffy, like we all do and that's never going to change."

"If he doesn't hate me then why hasn't he tried to call me then, huh? Why is the ownership on me alone? Don't get me wrong, this is great news. For years I've been imagining him sticking pins in a Voodoo Buffy Doll. But if he doesn't hate me anymore then why hasn't he called me up to say so?"

"Come off it, Buffy. You know why. He hasn't tried to call you because so far he hasn't succeeded at what he originally set out to do. Which is to find the origin point of the First Slayer. You're the one who told him he wasn't capable of finding it and so far you have been proven right. Xander has accomplished a lot of things in Africa; he's surpassed everyone's expectations including mine and Willow's. But he hasn't succeeded in meeting his original goal, until that happens I doubt you'll hear 'Boo' from him. Because until he does that he'll still think you were right and he was wrong."

Buffy sat down on the bed besides her sister. "That's kinda lame."

"Lame or not, that's Xander and that's why I love him to death. Don't try and over think it, it'll just give you a headache. Just accept it. Did you know that when he got poisoned last month …*"

"*POISIONED?!?"

"Ahh, you weren't told about that, huh? Sorry. Yeah, a blow dart to the shoulder. A booby-trap. If the poison on its tip was still fresh instead of a couple of hundred years and dried up he probably would have dropped like a stone. Fortunately it was weak enough so he was able to get himself to a nearby Aide Station. They were able to id the poison from the dart, he was given an antidote and he was back in that cave three days later. Only this time he was wearing a little more extra padding. Willow did that astral projection thing and stayed with him through out the fever and the delirium. Trust me, Buffy; from the stuff she said Xander was saying, he doesn't hate you. She said that he misses you like crazy. According to Will, he kept rambling and talking about you."

A flush of anger now took over from her guilt. "I was chatting to Willow last week, she never mentioned any of this!"

"Of coarse not. We all remember what happened when you found out that some scam artist Shaman when he tried to hack off Xander's head. You practically screamed bloody murder, demanding the Council get you a plane ticket to Botswana so you could hunt down that bastard and do to him exactly what he tried to do to Xander. The only think that stopped you from packing your bags and leaving that very minute was being told that it happened months earlier."

"Wait a minute. What do you mean 'being told?' When was Xander attacked?"

"Giles, me and Willow found out pretty much an hour after it happened. The injury wasn't fatal, he lost a lot of blood and got a nasty scar, but it wasn't life threatening. We were going to send you down so that when he awoke the next day from the operation you would be there. After all, Rome was the closest. Will volunteered to astral project and give you the info herself. But as soon as she told you about what happened to him you went into near hysterics. I'm not surprised you can't remember, Will said that you were on the cusps of a having some kind of nervous break down. So she used a calming enchantment, a no-easy feat given that it was cast all the way from Brazil. And when you were dazed and sleeping it was decided by her and Giles that maybe you weren't up to dealing with seeing him in a hospital bed, so they sent me instead and told you that the incident happened months earlier and everything with him was better."

Buffy's small hands clenched into fists at the telling of this story. "You should never have done that."

"Hey, *I* didn't. That was Giles and Willow's call, and they only did it because they honestly thought if they didn't you would have ended up in the Looney Bin or arrived in South Africa poised to make 'The Punisher' look like Mary Poppin's. The guy who tried to kill Xander was already being held in custody. Xan was injured, like I said, but it wasn't fatal. He still had enough in him to overpower the guy, restrain him and get him to Police before he collapsed and the Police bought Xander to the Hospital. The Hospital notified the Council because Xander had in his wallet instructions to notify them as his 'Next of Kin'. That's how we found out he was hurt. All Giles and Willow and me wanted from you was a smiling and reassuring face for Xander to wake up too. But with you going ballistic, we couldn't guarantee that. So they asked me to go instead."

"Did Xander find out?"

"About you going out of your mind?"

"Yes."

"No, we told him you were on a deep cover slaying type mission and couldn't be reached. He was actually relieved; the last thing he wanted was to worry you. So everybody pretty much from that time on decided to down play it. For his and your benefit."

"And you were never going to tell me about this?"

"Of coarse we were. But after that incident your love life with The Immortal started to go down the drain. Willow wasn't sure if there might have been some remanent stuff going on, after all, Rio is along way from Italy and you were hyper-distressed. Maybe you didn't get the benefit of the full 'whammy' as was hoped because she wasn't physically in the same room as you. And then when you told us the reason why 'Mr Pretentious' was out of favour with you was because of his lack of sensitivity to what had happened to Xander, well we decided to let sleeping dogs lie and come clean when the dust settled. Which is what I'm kinda doing right now. Nobody set out to con you, Buffy, let alone me."

Buffy took her sister's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. She could doubt a lot of things, but she would never doubt that the people closest to her in life would ever go out of their way to hurt her intentionally. "So you guy's actually went around calling Morby, 'Mr Pretentious'?"

"Xander did the rest of us just referred to him as the Non-Vamp Guy." Dawn's mouth crept into another small smile, one that was then shared by her elder sister.

A quiet moment hung in the air as the two enjoyed the silence of the other breathing. Suddenly Buffy shock her head clear of 'Xander Thoughts' and looked pointedly at her sibling. "You said before some thing about some big-ness type news. When you came in, remember? What was that about? Should we be celebrating? Are you graduating early? Or are you going to have a Library named after you?"

Dawn giggled and then laughed giddily, her face awash of excitement at remembering what had gotten her all worked up. "Better. A thousand times better. I have been selected to … I don't know … 'intern' would probably be the best word for it. I've been asked if I would be prepared and game enough to intern with my absolute hero. Hundred's, no THOUSANDS, of archaeological student's apply to be mentored by her. She's turned them all down flat. But me? She's agreed to interview me. ME, Buffy!"

"It's that bigger deal?"

A scowl crossed the 21-year olds face. "Buffy, it's like if Indiana Jones himself offered to show me the ropes. The difference is that Indy is a fictional character. So yeah, big deal to the extreme."

"So-o-o-o-o-o-o why you?"

"Professor Crawford said she was visiting the campus one day and poked her head in during one of his classes. She just wanted to offer him a nod 'hello' so that he wouldn't be put out if he found out she had visited her old stomping grounds and didn't bother to come around and acknowledge her favourite lecturer. At any rate, she stepped in from the back of the Lecture Hall so none of us saw her, except for the Prof of coarse. Anyhow I was in midst of calling him and his line of thinking 'Narrow minded'. From memory he was on about the impossibility of an Amazonian Tribe actually existing. As I had some experience living in a house full of 50 Slayer's, aka Warrior-Women, I kinda felt I had a relevant stake in the topic. I was telling him that such a thing was indeed possible and if he doubted it that he should meet my big sister. He seemed to think that me referring to you as a masculine female meant that I was outing you as a Lesbian. I then asked him if he had a problem with women have alternate sexual preferences to men, he kinda floundered at that. I then asked if he could tell which of the other six girls in his class at that moment were gay, there were two that I knew of. And I knew that because at the beginning of the year each of them made passes at me. At any rate, it looked like he was going to have a heart attack and quickly moved off the Amazonian subject entirely. Anyhow she was watching everything and Professor Crawford said she liked my 'fire' and was amused by my stubborn determination."

"Fire? What the hell does that mean? And who the Hell is he to belittle Gay's? You should tell Willow what he said; he'll wake up the next morning with a uterus."

"Crawford doesn't have anything against Gay's, Buffy. The guy is a Dinosaur, but a sweet one. He only enquired if YOU were gay, and I took the ball and ran with it knowing that the subject would make him uncomfortable. He's the kind of guy whose mind and manners are trapped in 1950's and thinks that when a female dare challenges his logic and claims, it's because they are having an 'irrational moment', which loosely translates to 'her time of the month'. He probably thought I was dealing with my monthly visitor, which is why he let my antics in the class slide."

"They let people like that Teach here?"

"Sure. Look, Buffy, I have nothing against Crawford. None of the girls do. He's a real sweetheart. To be honest, I wish I could bottle him up. He calls us all 'Dear' and he's not creepy or condescending about it. He opens the doors for us even if he's not going into the room himself. He is an English Gentleman through and through. And that's just him personally, as a lecturer he always gives extensions on our Assignment's and he never asks for a reason. He has an Open Door Policy and unlike a lot of other academic's here he has actually done what he preaches. He discovered Tombs in Egypt, Buffy. He helped excavate Troy. He has more stories and experience then any of the other Lecturer's here put together. In short, he's brilliant. You sit down talking about Inca Ruin's and you end up yarning about the time he was on an expedition to discover Atlantis. You never want his classes to end and you start despising the clock with every tick it takes to the end of his lecture. He's the Mr Chips of this place, Buffy, and despite all his faults I think he's adorable. Some even say that JK Rowling's based her Albus Dumbledore on him, but that's just a rumour with no credibility, but I can certainly believe it if it's true."

Another genuine smile spread over Buffy's face as she watched Dawn defend her teacher, she wished she had that type of relationship with her own Lecturer's at SC, maybe if she did she probably would have returned to classes after she returned from the dead the second time instead of happily slide into being a patty-flipper at the 'Double Meat Palace'. "So who exactly is this person you're gushing over?"

Dawn showed a genuine effort to compose herself and maintain a very restrained demeanour, but at the last second she started to bounce up and down with excitement, like she was told she had a date with the lead singer of one of the guys that were stuck upon her bedroom wall. "It's Lara Croft, Buffy. Lady Croft has asked to see. The one and only Tomb Raider, Buffy. Isn't that incredible?"

"Who?!?"


	2. Chapter 2

Four days can be a long time when your mind is moving at a thousand miles an hour. She never thought ninety-six hours could roll by so slowly, but she was wrong. Dead wrong. After her afternoon with Dawn, laughing and catching up. Reliving past glories and dwelling on ancient history, she returned to her Hotel room invigorated and at the same time full of restrained contempt over what she was going to do the next day.

Like every dated organisation, good and bad, the Watcher Council functioned on order. Unlike days past where she could wander into Giles Apartment or Library unannounced, these days appointments had to be made. A record of Meeting's kept. After all, Rupert Eugene Giles was an important man, Chief Watcher and all that nonsense. Fortunately however she already had an appointment. True, she was originally going to use it to beg for a relocation to Spain, but after what Dawn had imparted the day before … well, tearing strips of flesh off the man she had once looked up to and revered sided as just as good of a preference to spend her allocated hour then anything else she could think up.

How dare he and Willow control her grief and worry about Xander! Placing it in a proverbial shoebox and putting it to the back corner of her mental-closet. How could they manipulate her after everything they had been through with one another?

As soon as she pushed open the doors to his office she knew she would be having a fight on her hands. She knew this because levitating besides Giles lazily as she stormed into the room was the astral form of Willow. Obviously Dawn had contacted them both earlier and gave them the heads up that she was now in the 'know' towards what they had both done to her memories and perceptions months earlier to conceal Xander's machete attack.

Sure, Dawn down played it stating that his injury wasn't life threatening, but still as far as she was concerned one of her dearest friends had been seriously injured and she had every right to know about it. Regardless to whether she and Xand were talking or not she had a right to resolve any personal differences in the event the unthinkable did happen. People died from infections and South Africa didn't exactly have the best reputation worldwide with respects to medicine and medical care. If Xander had passed on before she had the chance to beg him to forgive her … well, there would be no place in Hell she wouldn't tear apart in order to find both of these people. They could just momentarily count themselves lucky that Xander had NOT died, that is all she had to say!

In her crazed mind there was no way either of them could justify what they did to her, and she let them know that with full barrels. They didn't even flinch, infact they both looked pretty bored during the proceeding. And after twenty minutes of rambling rants, Giles eventually passed over a small box of tissues. It was only then that she realised that she had been crying. When she started crying she did not know, but she was humbled by the realisation of it. In her head she heard Willow's voice telling her that they were going to leave her now. She remembered being started for a second and then realising that telepathy was the only way her friend could communicate in her 'spirit-like-state'. Giles nodded in agreement and left the room as Willow evaporated away with a sadden look upon her face.

With the two gone she finally noticed an impressive stack of Blue Filing Folder's, placed one on top of the other that had been sitting behind Giles. There were nine of them and each was full to near capacity. The mound of paperwork seemed to beckon her and she slowly approached weary of the possibility of being observed. After all, only official Watcher's were permitted access to personal data and research and she knew this to be a Research because the Folder's were Blue. Slayer's had Red Folder's and Watcher's had White. No-one without proper authorisation could accesses any other Folder but their own or upon a _'Needs Only'_ Basis. As she looked down upon the top of the highest place Folder she saw a Name and a Volume number 'Researcher: A Harris, Volume 1'. Eagerly she looked down upon the spine of all the other Folder's that lay below the one at the top. Each and all were _'A. Harris'_ from Volume one straight to Volume nine.

Her mouth went dry at the implications and the possibilities. She had just finished demanding to know more about what Xander had been doing and not to be coddled and protected and Giles and Willow were already prepared for it. They had made Xander's COMPLETE personal information available and they had given her privacy to review every official word because they both had known that their own credibility with her would now be left in question.

Hungrily, she removed the top folder and begun to read. She didn't stop reading until she had finished the last and most current report contained in the bottom last folder. It had been eight hours since she turned the first page to when she put down the last. In that time she had not been disturbed and she had gone through an entire tissue box.

She did not clearly remember how she made it back to her Hotel room, her motions being on full auto pilot. But she did remember crawling into the large and swank bed as imagined images of Xander's newly exposed life danced around in her head. Sleep refused to come for her that night and the following day she remained still under the covers hating herself for having invited Xander into her life. All she wished now was to have been left ignorant. How could she ever have a conversation with him again knowing what she now knew? No wonder Willow looked down on her with sadness when she faded away, unlike the Wicca-Extreme she had had the benefit of insider knowledge, knowledge that had been absorbed over a respectable amount of time. But for her? She had been forced to digest three years of hardships and triumphs all in the span of hours. For her it was almost too much.

Even now as she was being driven in a Classic Grey Ghost Rolls Royce, sitting besides her excited sister all she could think about were snippets of what she read days earlier. Like those three-days when Xander had been lashed to a tree. He had come to the defence of a Wilder-beast Were person. Stopping and distracting a small squad of Poacher's as their intended victim made it's escape. It was a simple case where it was one against twelve, the twelve won out but Xand didn't make it an easy victory for them. He had the crap beat out of him seven different ways, but the Poacher's were smart enough to know that a body that was riddled with bullets and knife wounds would drawn the attention of the Authorities. Yet one that was eaten and devoured by hungry Lion's and the like would not be. With prolonged thoughts of torture and fear on their minds they tied a semi-conscious and bleeding Xander securely to a tree, lashing him so tightly that the restraints actually cut into his skin when he tried to pull free at his bindings.

For three days, he suffered the African sun with no cover or protection. No water. No food. And no-one within a hundred miles to hear his parched screams that kept the various predators at bay. At the beginning of the forth day, blistered and experiencing sever sunstroke, his energy had all but left him and he was ready for the Pride of Lions that had shifted closer and closer to him over the passing day's to have their meal. Fortunately the were-person he had saved days earlier had reverted back to his human form and had come in search for his body to bury with some measure of dignity so as to not allow his carcass to rot and be ravaged by carrion eaters. None, Xander reported in his Journal, were more surprised at his survival and breathing-like-status then his new best friend. This stranger got Xander to a nearby aide station and he was transported to a Hospital later that day. There he remained for a week, recovering from his heat stroke, his beating and taking in plenty of fluids and vitamins to combat his dehydration. All awhile as the local Bush Patrol's hunted down the Poacher's who did this to him using the descriptions he had offered them on his attackers.

The were-person was from the first Demon-esk Tribe he had come across since his arrival in Africa a month earlier and by coincidence the Youngman he had saved was one of the Chieftain's several son's. When he was discharged from the Hospital he was escorted to the Tribe and there he was able to receive their collective gratitude for his courage and open-mindedness at recusing one of the 'Princes' and not being distrustful of their 'physicality's' during the full moon phase. It was with them that Xander formed the first of many Treaties and from them his reputation spread across the plains to other were-tribes and demon habitats. All forerunning to his fairness and acceptance to what they all were. For that first year all he had to do was walk into any of these tribes and announce that he was Xander Harris of the 'Watcher Clan' and he had man, woman and … 'thing' lining up to be his ally. In one year he had advanced more info to the Watcher's data base for the region than what had been achieved in over five hundred years.

Three years ago she called him 'Andrew', a spiteful insult to get him to stay away from Africa. What an idiot she was. Xander was a freakin' 'Rock God' down there!

The memory of these simple entries made her eyes presently itch, both with pride and sadness. Yet she quickly dispelled it all, forcing herself to think 'happy-thoughts'. This was Dawns big day. She was about to meet her hero and be interviewed for a position of a life time and one that could guide her in future endeavours. The last thing she needed was for this Lady Croft person make enquires into why the '+ one' had red puffy eyes.

The invitation arrived earlier that day, on an engraved card none the less. Allowing Dawn to invite a person of her own choosing to an intimate and personal dinner with her Ladyship. It took Dawn all of two-seconds to identify why this was. An issue later affirmed when Henry, Lady Croft's Butler and personal Chauffeur arrived to collect them. Apparently Lady Croft was curious to the kind of company Dawn kept and genuinely speaking the '+ ones' always revealed more about the habits and character of the person being interviewed. Originally Dawn was of the mind to dismiss the use of the extra invitation, but quickly changed her mind. If she did that it would make her sound 'unsociable' and without friends. Invite a boy along and she might give the impression that she was perhaps a little bit TOO sociable. Invite a classmate and it would look as though she might be trying to show off her accomplishment to a peer. Bringing her sister along however was a 'This porridge is just right' moment. Buffy had spent the last two and a half years in Rome so she could not possibly embarrass her with any current stories and Dawn had just enough sisterly control over what Buffy would and could say to ensure that foe-par moments could be avoided.

They had been driving for close to two-hours and Buffy was starting to have difficulty keeping her mind focused on the here and now, which is why she was repeatedly rehashing over in her thoughts things she had read about in Xander's personal accounts. Suddenly the Roll's drew into a private entrance and driveway, in the far off distance the amber glow of many, many lights could be seen.

"Ladies, I would like to welcome you both to Croft Manor House, Buckinghamshire."

To her left, Dawn, released a squeal and then leaned forward, straining at her seatbelt to peer assertively through the front windshield. Buffy couldn't help but smile; it had been a long time since she had seen Dawn this excited.

After four-minutes of additional driving they finally reached their destination. The car came to a steady and almost polite stop; Henry got out and opened the side door for his passengers. As soon as Buffy extracted herself from the classic vehicle she found her mouth opening of it's own accord in awe and wonder. This had to be the biggest home she had ever seen in her entire life. Looking beside her she was relieved to see Dawn imitating her features exactly.

As though he had seen this a thousand times before, Henry raised his voice in a level manner. "I know it can look quite intimidating, but believe you me it is no less impressive then any other hundred room Palaces." The man servant extended his hand outward to direct them up the stairs to the main entrance.

If it was at all possible, the inside appeared larger then the outside. In union the two females gulped as they started to recognise that this was not going to be the cosy and intimate gathering they had thought it would be.

As though the sound of their fear was a prompt for action a figure began to descend the marble staircase. The only thought that ran through Buffy's mind as their host began to join them was a simple one: _If Wonder Woman and Superman ever had a daughter, then this is what she would have looked like_. There was a regal quality in her movements, like everything she did was effortless and instinctual. But Buffy could not discount the hard and harsh gaze that accompanied the movements. This was a woman who was above the prompt and pleasures of Society, infact from the cool look and manner, the Slayer was of the opinion that Lady Croft detested the Station she had been born into.

As soon as Lara reached the bottom of the stairs she extended her hand out to Dawn. "A pleasure to meet you Ms. Summer's. I have been looking forward to this day for quite a while; I just never had the excuse to initiate contact. I must say the things I have heard about you appear to be an understatement."

Dawn looked as though she was a baby rabbit caught in the headlamps of an oncoming truck. "R…really? You've heard about me? From who? Because it might all be lies."

"Goodness, I hope not. My source thinks very highly of you and he doesn't speak highly of too many people. But of those he does, you are at the top of his list." Lara moved in closer and whispered in a consistorial way. "And for the record, he doesn't lie. At least not to me."

Dawn chucked, but it was clear to everyone that it was a nervous reaction. "So I have a fan, huh? Should I be worried or grateful?"

Lara smiled a very practiced and easy smile and turned her attention to the blonde standing besides her. "And you must be Buffy, Dawn's sister."

Buffy couldn't but feel a little put off by her identification, to the best of her knowledge Dawn didn't notify anyone that she was going to be her '+ one' and when she and Dawn were picked up by Henry a couple of hours earlier he did not make any communications prior or during the journey. Her participation in this night's affair should have been a complete 'unknown'.

"Do I have a 'Fan' as well?" The edge in her voice would be impossible not to interpret as a suspicious one. Buffy had been in these situations before, being invited to impressive surroundings, allowing herself to be caught off guard only to discover it to be a trap of some kind.

"You Ms Summer's? I suspect that you would have many. But in this instance what I known of Dawn I learned through basic research. After all, I do not invite anyone into my Family Home who I do not know forwards and backwards. In learning of Dawn's various achievements's I also found your photo crossing in front of me as well. I know who you are because I have made your sister of keen interest."

Buffy should have been reassured by these comments, but instead all she felt was more trepidation. Dawn had spent most of that first afternoon regaling her of 'who' Lara Croft was. Her various achievements and her 'questionable acquisitions'. She was a Treasure Hunter who had a habit of getting involved in exotic adventures. Could it be that Lara Croft had discovered that Dawn was once 'The Key'? Could this meet and greet be all about stealing another rare treasure?

"You don't trust me, do you Ms Summer's? That is a shame because I was dearly hoping we could all become good friends."

Buffy's eyes narrowed slightly, for starters she never trusted anyone who expected them to be instant friends straight off the bat. Lara had an angle she was playing, her instincts, slayer and female were practically screaming in her ears telling her so. This intimate gathering could not just be about a internship. Croft had gone out of her way to try and impress them, to impress Dawn. Part of her wanted to grab her sister by the hand and drag her out of this place, but she knew that if she did this in front of her little sister's hero that she would never be forgiven. After all, Lara hadn't done anything adverse … yet. She guessed she should just play everything by ear for the moment.

"Let's just be friend's. The 'Good' can come after we have gotten to know each other a bit better. Okay?"

That Cat that swallowed the Canary smile rose upon the 'Hostess-with-the Mostest' face. "That seems very reasonable, Buffy. And I am certain that at the end of the night we will all be one step closer to achieving that."

Dawn let lose a relaxed sigh at the end of those words, relief evident that World War III had been adverted and her chance to lose out on the internship she had set her heart towards had not been lost.

Over the next several moment's a various collection of light engagements were made. Each female trying to feel out the other, figuratively speaking. Short discussions were made by Lara towards Dawn's favourite subjects and Lecturers. To both of their surprises dawn and Lara shared the same interests and also favourite Teacher's as well. Even though Lara had gone through Oxford fifteen years earlier, the rotation of educator's, especially of the quality demanded by the school were small and minor ones. So it appeared that many of Dawn's Teacher's had also taught Lara when she was a student as well.

Dinner was a four coarse meal and the Slayer felt more and more confident as the evening progressed in her earlier assessment of Lara. She was working far too hard to become a 'friend' to Dawn and herself, not a Mentor. After an hour of back and forth conversation, very little of the dialogue had centred around the title Dawn was hoping to earn. For her sister's sake Buffy held her impatient tongue, the last thing she wanted to do was ruin, what must have been to Dawn, the best ever night of her life.

"So Dawn, do you have a boyfriend?"

The question caught Buffy by surprised and her 19th Century dessert spoon slipped from her grasp and collided with the crystal bowl that had been served earlier with ice cream and succulent strawberry pieces. The *clank* was deep and it echoed in the vast dining hall. This question was asked by her three-days earlier and she was told firmly by her sister to mind her own business. However, now, given the present barer of the query she supremely doubted that her little sis would be as rude or as elusive in providing an answer. With keen interest evident upon her face, she leaned forward.

"Come now Dawn, you are an attractive, intelligent and charming young woman. There are plenty of very eligible bachelors at Oxford, I know, I was there. There must be at least several young men of means attending your classes alone. Are you saying none of them have ever approached you for coffee?"

Dawn blushed and looked down to the napkin draping her lap. "Well, there are twelve boys actually. A couple of Lord's and such in-waiting. Gentry' types, property owners and the like. Sure they've asked me, some more then twice if I would be interested. They're nice, they're certainly polite. But they're not exactly what I'm looking for. Y'know, man wise."

A row of perfectly white and pearly teeth became exposed. "Oh really? It sounds to me that you know *exactly* what your looking for." Lara leaned back in her high back chair. "Can I phantom a guess? He's an older gentleman, isn't he?"

Dawn blushed again. A physical response that Buffy did not like seeing at all. She had had too many experiences with 'older' gentleman and she didn't want her sister go down the same road. Buffy looked at Lara with an impassioned look, one that sought a explanation on how she had guessed her response.

Lara continued to smile and took pity on the blonde. "She referred to the others as 'boys' yet selected to identify this would be individual as a 'man'. My guess is that it's probably one of her Professor's, it wouldn't be the first time a bit of infatuation and puppy love went astray. When I was a student I had the most embarrassing crush on *"

"*IT"S NONE OF THE PROFESSOR'S!!! It's somebody else!" Dawn looked down once more at her lap ashamed that she had lost her composure and raised her voice in front of her host.

"Who?" It was the only question that came to her lips as Buffy returned back to a normal seating position, ignoring the obvious discomfort her sister was in.

"It's …" Dawn suddenly thought different to blatantly revealing the name to her sister and mid sentence chose another tact. "He's not older, older. He's not like Giles-age. He's just older then me. And it's only by about 5-years or so, which considering the ages of *YOUR* BF's I think you should be a little bit less arrogant about. 'Kay?"

Buffy crossed her arms in front of her, still far from impressed with the explanation just given.

"She's right, Buffy. Love has no age-limit. Speaking for myself, I'm madly and deeply involved with a man several years my junior. Does that make me a cradle snatcher? A cougar as you American's call it? Tell me, Dawn, does he know that you care about him?"

"Care? Yeah, he knows that. But I don't think he knows I love him, at least not like that."

"If you don't mind my curiosity, why do you love him then?"

The question was a gentle and reassuring one and it caused dawn's lips to turn slightly upwards, her eyes shining like she was caught in a pleasant and important memory. "Because he told me I was extraordinary once. That I wasn't 'Special', that I was extraordinary. He didn't have too, say it I mean. But he took one minute aside, as everyone else was going about their business, doing their own thing. Y'know ignoring me. He stepped up and spoke to me, I mean *actually* spoke to me like I was his equal and not someone who was years younger. And then he told me I was extraordinary, kissing me after he did so. And when he did that I didn't care about our ages. I didn't care that he was older then me, or I was younger then him. I just wanted him to kiss me like that again and again and again and never stop kissing me.

"People can always find things to love about an other person. They can love the way they look, the way they speak, the way they laugh. They can love the way that person thinks and smiles. The way that they tell jokes, good ones and bad ones. But I fell in love with him though because he made me feel as though he would always be there to watch over me, to protect me. Which when you come to think about it in its basic form is a pretty primal response for us gals isn't it. We tend to chose to be with the ones who we feel will protect us the most."

"That's got to be the stupidest explanation to love someone I ever heard. He tells you your 'extraordinary' and then he plants one on you and from that your prepared to spend the rest of your days pining away for something that might never happen. From your own admission he doesn't know you're even infatuated with him and your turning down Dukes- in-waiting and Lords. That's crazy. Don't get me wrong, you living like a Nun thrills me to pieces. But your letting your life slip on by."

The sound of a crystal dessert bowl was heard being pushed away, what followed was a brief silence before the pearly whites of the world's most perfect smile revealed itself. "I don't think Dawn's explanation was stupid, Buffy. Infact I found it very revealing of Dawn as a person, and in truth I envy her. I have had many male suitors in my lifetime, Buffy, and every single one of them has always tried to take advantage or has betrayed my trust.

"Two years ago when I was leaving an expedition in Kilimanjaro, just outside of what the locals call the 'Mountain of the Gods', my Jeep went into a ditch, the rear axle snapped. You say that such people as the ones Dawn describe should be given up on, well I call that foolish. Because out of no-where along came such a man. Call it fate, call it coincidence, but he was looking for the 'Cradle of Life', the same place we were returning from. And also from where my latest male friend perished after choosing to ignore my wishes. Trying to seek fame and riches for himself. If we had not met him when we did he would most likely have perished if he tried to enter the 'Cradle'. So I guess in the end we both helped each other out.

"At any rate I had just lost one … lover. My mind was not in a right place, it was bitter and it was distrustful. Usually after something like that I would end up locking myself up in my room for a month. But this young man, a man I never met and was a complete stranger drove me and my party right back into Kilimanjaro, a three to four hour drive, without any word of compensation for the journey to any of us. Just helping out stranger's in trouble, talking and making jokes, lifting our … *my* spirits, he was younger then me, but it was clear by the lines of his face that his experiences were … interesting ones. And a part of me desperately wanted to know of these 'experiences'.

"Like with Dawn and her mystery man, there are just moments Buffy that you know who is right for you and who isn't. Just as I knew when that strange young man made me laugh when that was absolutely the last thing I wanted to do. We then parted company with no expectations that we would see each other ever again. Eight months later however I was back in another area of Africa, Ethiopia, and like fate we found ourselves seeking out the same mystery object. During that time we got to know one another a little bit better.

"And Dawn is absolutely right, it's a primal thing, all the men I have been with all share one common theme: they could all handle themselves in a fight or some other disaster, but this person … this man, this man several years my junior, made me feel for the first time as though I was protected. That it was alright for me to be a … a female and not someone who is always trying and struggling to compete in the violence of a 'Man's World'. Somebody like that, like the man Dawn describes, accepts you. They don't try to change you; they don't try to control you. They embrace who you are and they love you for it. For all your egos and your frailties."

"Yeah, well I don't need to get in a round table discussion on my 'Love-Life' or lack thereof, please." Buffy then pushed herself away from the table. "And I don't mean to be rude, but it's nearly nine and your driver drove us for close to two-hours to get here. Which mean's even if Dawn and I left right now it's doubtful we'd be back in Oxford before 11."

"You're right, I've just gotten all caught up with wanting to know you both better that I forgot the whole purposes of why I invited you in the first place." Lady Croft now turned her attention to the younger sibling. "Dawn, do you wish to be my intern?"

The eyes of the younger Summer's sister grew wide; could it really have been that easy? One stunned upward and downward motion of her head followed another then another, then another, speeding with it's frequency until she finally choked out a verbal reply. "YES! Yes, I would love that."

"Excellent, it's settled then. And you are absolutely right, Buffy; it is far too late for you to make your journey back to Oxford. So I invite you both to be my guest's for the night."

Dawn looked at her elder sister expectantly. Buffy, rolled her eyes and then nodded her compliance before she stood up from the table. "Well if that's that then, I think I might take myself outside to gather some of that old country air I've heard so many people talk about."

As soon as Buffy left the Dining Room, Lara leaned over to speak with Dawn again. "Did I say anything to upset her?"

Dawn shock her head. "No, she's recently had a break-up. So I think that all our talk about 'True Love' has probably been a little upsetting for her. Buffy has never had much success in that area. She's come close, but there has always been one thing or another standing in her way. And your talking about Africa probably didn't help much either, not that that was your fault. You didn't know."

"Know what?"

"A few years ago Buffy and this guy … Xander is his name, anyway Xander and Buffy work for the same, um, 'Company'. And this Company wanted to transfer Xand over to Africa. Xand was pumped, but Buffy got in his face telling him that he wasn't qualified. They had an argument, things were said, y'know that kinda stuff. They made up before he left, but she still didn't agree with the new direction he was taking with his life. So she stopped having too much to do with him. They never spoke or chatted, so what Xander was doing was pretty much a mystery to her. She only got third hand info. Anyway she returned back from her own posting a few days ago and discovered exactly the kinda things he was getting up too in Africa. I think her discoveries hit her pretty hard, finding out about the kinda things he has done. She's probably carrying around a lot of guilt for not being the friend she thought she should have been."

Lady Croft leaned back in her chair. "Interesting. Xander must be important to her."

"Xander is important to all of us, not just Buffy. He's the glue. He's the 'Heart' of everything we once were." Dawn turned her head to the exit Buffy had walked out just a few moments before letting her cryptic references float un answered in the air. "A body can't live without its heart, and if it does then it's a pretty sad and stinkin' life. Buff has just now started to work that out. A life … A World without Xander, really isn't much of a life or a World worth living in."

Dawn felt the cool and reassuring grip of Lady Croft's hand as it reached across the table and took her's. "Believe it or not, Dawn, I understand exactly what you are saying."

With her free hand Lara touched the intercom to her right side. "Bryce?"

An unfamiliar voice emitted from the speakers in the ceiling. "Yeah, Lara."

"Would you be a Dear and escort the younger Ms Summer's to the Library and show her the plate and can you also arrange for refreshments as well?"

"Sure."

As soon as 'Bryce' signed off a more noticeable voice was heard, this time Dawn recognised it as the Man Servant, Henry. "Would the young Ms like some camomile with a drop of lemon bought to her?"

Dawn looked up at the ceiling and called out to the speaker's. "Yes, please, Henry." Dawn then realised the wantoned smirk on Lara's face. "How? How did he know that I like camomile with lemon?"

"I told you before, I have excellent resources. Now it's time, as they say for you to 'Pay for your supper.' Bryce will be here in a moment to take you into the Family Library, don't be too put off by his general presentation, he always looks like a refugee from a Rambo Movie only lacking in the muscles department. Now he will be showing you a very old plate. I would like your analysis of it."

"You're not coming with me?"

"I thought I would give you some privacy. I'll be joining you shortly to find out what you have discovered."

At the conclusion of her statement, Lara got up and exited the room through the same door's her sister did. A moment later a young dishevelled man in an olive green army jacket that was three-sizes too big for him entered the room.

1234

It took all of ten seconds for Lady Croft to spy the pensive Buffy Summer's. She was staring out over the vast estate that had been her own since she was nine years of age. The guest's face full of hounded resentment, her knuckles clenched white.

With easy care she approached the young woman, aware already that this other person had already heard her carefully treaded approach. "I'm not very good at this I'm sorry to say. Apologising for my actions, careless or unknown as they may have been, it is not something I generally do. But I was not aware that you had just finished a relationship. My comments and encouragements to your sister must have stung. I'm truly sorry for subjecting you to that."

Buffy released a bitter laugh. "I'll get over it, I always do."

Lara continued her path ever forward, proceeding with the conversation. "Dawn also told me abit about your friend in Africa as well. If I had known you were worried about him I never would have mentioned my own experiences."

Buffy actually looked up at this comment, staring at the moon through the intermittent clouds. "That however, I don't think I will get over so easily. And for the record, I'm not worried. I was, but not anymore. At least not as much as I should be."

"Why?"

"Because he's doing fine. What is worse he is doing fine without me."

"And you resent him for that?"

"God, no! But a person, y'know, likes to feel needed."

At this stage now Lara was standing right besides the blonde. "Dawn said that this man, Xander, was your 'Heart'. Forgive my curiosity, but why did she say that?"

Buffy turned to look at Lara and was again surprised that she had to crane her head up to meet the other's eyes. But unlike before when she had first gazed into them the harshness was no more, what she saw was instead more imploring worry. The look of a person watching another drowning and not being able to do anything to help them. The Slayer knew that Dawn's gaff was a reference to the joining spell she and the gang had performed five years earlier when they went up against A.D.A.M. But she was not inclined to reveal this to a person she had just met.

"She meant that he was special. That Xander was more then just my friend; he was a member of my family. And in every family the members serve a purpose. Some member's are stronger, some are smarter, and some are more aware and moral. Xander was my small private family's heart. He loved us all unconditionally, no matter what we said or how we did things. He was our … Heart."

A wave of relief seemed to wash itself over the 6ft beauty at the completion of these words, barely noticeable in the darkness of the outside, fortunately Buffy's Slayer sight gave her the benefit of seeing the change in expressions.

Buffy shifted her gaze up to the moon once more. "When he volunteered to go to Africa, my first thought was 'you bastard'. I was so angry with him. How dare he do this too me. For as long as I have known him I have always worried about him. I can't really explain it. He was my … anyway, myself, him and another friend of ours were basically offered out own Posting's. I chose Italy; this other friend selected Brazil and with the World all but at his feet, where does he chose? Africa."

"And you thought he was being selfish?"

"Kinda, yeah. At first anyway. I mean how could I have a good time in Rome, living it up if I was always thinking of him and what he might be enduring? How could I be laughing and going to Night Clubs when at the back of my mind I'm worrying about him and malaria, spears and blowguns, AIDS, Lions and Tigers and Bears. So yes, I thought he was being selfish and being a bit of a dumbass as well. I also didn't think he was qualified or if he knew what he was getting into. I told him such as well. His own response to this effort however put me right in my place. It had been along time since I had felt that … bad. We mended our bridges before he left, but I couldn't support him for what he was doing. He left England knowing and believing that he did not have my support. But for the most part it was all about the shame I felt and I lacked the courage to change that."

"And now you think differently."

"No. Now I *KNOW* differently. He's proven he doesn't need me anymore. He didn't need any of us. He made himself completely self-sufficient."

"And that scares you?"

Buffy was starting to find the questions to personal and tedious, so she tried to turn the tables on her host. "Wouldn't it scare you?"

"Look around you, Buffy. What do you see?"

"A pretty big place and a mowing headache."

"My mother passed away when I was three, my father disappeared during an expedition and presumed dead when I was nine. Do you have any idea what it's like to be nine years old, no parent's or other relatives and be the sole inheritor of the Croft name and title as well as it's two-hundred million pound estate with funds in the Bank of England estimated at another four hundred million pounds? I grew up alone, with the exception of Henry, and angry at the world. Everyone wanted a piece of me, I had no one else. I became resentful, the rebellious teenager. I grew up a wild childe. When everyone else my age in the Social Circuit was buying Bentley's, I was riding Harley's. When others were travelling to the South of France for vacations I was spending time in the north of Scotland training with the SAS. Whatever the Society Types did, I did the exact opposite."

"Your point being?"

"My point is Buffy is that from nine I was more or less alone. I felt as though I had a responsibility for no-one, only myself."

"Again, your point?"

"My point, *Buffy*, is that you had and have someone who you felt a responsibility for. Whether it was your sister or this Xander gentleman. You had the opportunity, the gift of caring for someone other then yourself. That is irreplaceable and precious. Whether you know it or not these experiences guided you to who you are now, just as with Xander. He is probably who he is now because at points along his journey he had you to be there for him. His successes are equally yours, so don't hate him or yourself."

"So your saying that it is because of me that he is the man he is today?"

Lara smiled again, baring a glimpse of her perfect teeth. "I can say without hesitation and doubt that if this 'Xander' person was standing here besides you and me right now and I asked him how he became the impressive man that he is today. His reply would probably be _'Because of Buffy._"

The blonde couldn't help herself, she smiled at that pleasant thought and she now found herself warming up to this woman whom she had originally been sceptical of. But she still felt as though Lady Croft still possessed the advantage over her and decided to cease some ground. "So what about you and your Wildman of Borneo? Does he have a name, or what?"

Lara looked up at the heavy moon and laughed. "Of coarse he was a name. He has an eye that twinkles. A laugh that cascades into you ears like honey. A voice that can be softer then an Angel's sign or as harsh as a Lion's roar."

In the darkness, Buffy rolled her eyes at the poetic description. Was Croft really this sappy or was she having fun with her? "Well then, what is it?"

"I wish I could tell you Buffy, but I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I am famous and he, well, he isn't. You have not had the benefit of being scrutinised by the British Tabloid Press, have you? No? Well, I have. It's not a pleasant experience. They would tear up any past secret he had thought had been forgotten and make it news worthy. For the last few months I have worked very hard not to make any reference to him by name, it has now become pretty much second nature now. What if I was to tell you who it was and you were over heard chatting about with this piece of info in some store by either another customer or sales person. Celebrity Gossip can earn a person a decent amount of dollars in this day and age. You'd be surprised how many scandals have played out in the media over an unsubstantiated bit of idol and errant conversation."

"Well then what could be so scandalise? That you love a guy a few years your junior? Big deal."

"Believe it or not, Buffy, it *WOULD* be a big deal."

Buffy's eyes narrowed, she was starting to enjoy herself with this game of impromptu twenty-questions. "Then tell me, I promise, I swear, I won't say anything to anyone. You don't even have to tell me his name if you don't want to. Why? Is he already married?"

Lara sighed and shook her head in amusement. She then looked down on her diminutive new friend. "Married? As it so happens yes he is. To me."

"What!?! So what's the problem?"

"Because it was a Tribal Ceremony, the kind Tourist's participate in. Hardly recognisable in any court of law. We were invited to a Marriage Ceremony, got drunk that night on fermented juice and we both got caught up in the proceedings asking if the Elder could marry us both as well. Not exactly exchanging of the vows, is it? More like I drink from his cup, he drinks from mine. I do a very provocative dance around the campfire and we go into the nearest hut to consummate the union."

"Still it sounds pretty nice. Unique."

"Nice and Unique it might be, but hardly recognisable."

"So what's the scandal?"

"I'm Lady Croft, Buffy. My Ancestry can be dated back with ease several hundred years. I am on the first name basis of all the Prince's and Duchesses of this country of England. I am … I was destined to be married in St Paul's Cathedral, whether I liked it or not. Not on dirt, wearing a grass skirt and certainly not gyrating in front of a Village of 300 stranger's."

Buffy could help but giggle at the imagery and the bind her new 'friend' found herself in. "So what's the big deal? You said it yourself that it wasn't recognised as an official ceremony."

"It's a big deal because the man I married *DOES* recognise it. Believe me I have asked him several different ways to ignore the proceedings and have asked to Marry him in a actual church. Me! I'm the one actually proposing here, can you believe it?"

Buffy released another giggle and looked about the vastness of the Manor surrounding her. "I have to admit, that's kinda hard to believe."

"He said that it would be disrespectful to the Tribe and the Elder who married us if we ignored their traditions. As far as he's concerned we're husband and wife."

"He sounds pretty stubborn."

"Noble in his pig-headedness through and through. It's one of the things that I adore the most yet at the same time infuriates me."

Without meaning too Buffy found her mind drifting back to the many arguments she had shared with Xander, forcing her to comment on it now. "Oh, I think Xander would have this guy of your's beat. If Xander felt he was in the right he would have no problems digging in his heals. Right to the point that you would want to tear your hair out from the roots."

A smile crossed Lara's lips again as she spied up at the Moon once more, unfortunately Buffy had missed this simple and sly motion. "It sounds to me that my gentleman friend and your Xander have a lot in common. Practically, two peas in a pod."

"Yeah, it does. They're both as stubborn as a mule. I'm wagering you haven't given up yet have you?"

Under the moonlight Lara shook her head in the negative. "No. just changing tactics, that all. I'm hoping I can get his 'Family' on my side. Maybe with their help I can get him to see the errors of his ways and marry me properly. With usher's and flower girls, Priest's and Limo's. The whole deal."

"Doesn't sound like a big ask? I mean you said it yourself, your loaded and this place? Wow. I doubt they'll turn you down."

"The trouble is he doesn't know about my wealth. He knows I am an Adventurer of sorts and that I have the kind of resources that most explorers would drool for. But my wealth and title? No, completely oblivious. And as towards his nearest and dearest? They have not a clue that he and I are wed. The last time he tried to get married, so he says, ended up as a first rate disaster. So he's trying to keep ours under raps to see if we can go the distance before he tells anyone."

"Not very romantic if you ask me."

"He has his reasons and I have to respect that. But then again my own personal history is not so stellar. I'm a veritable 'Black Widow' where relationships are concerned."

"So what are you planning to do?" Buffy asked becoming more comfortable around the woman.

"Like I said, integrate myself into the lives of the people he treasures and hope that they will help me change his mind and see things my way."

Suddenly, like a beam of light Buffy saw what was happening. Why tonight was so odd. "You were using Dawn and me as a dry run, weren't you?"

Both the Ladyship's eyebrows arched. "Excuse me?"

"Me and Dawn, you put on this 'impress you' dinner and chit chat as a dry run for when you try and make friends with your Man's family."

Lara turned on her heels, an amused smile crossing her lips. "I think we have been out here long enough, Buffy. Let's go rejoin your sister in the library."

Buffy followed, feeling now ever more relieved that there wasn't anything sinister about the night at all.


	3. Chapter 3

Buffy entered the Library with the Manor's owner, and as soon as she crossed the room's threshold her eyes began straying everywhere at once. Not in her entire life had she seen so many books or free standing columns supporting even more books. Shelves stacked to capacity. Her mind spined at how so many tomes of all sizes had been accumulated into one place, or how one person could be able to read so much within a hundred life-times. Eventually her straying eyes discovered her sister sitting behind a large banquet style deep oak table. To the Slayer's sharp hunter-eyes, her sibling looked minuscule amongst her surroundings, but her face betrayed a young woman immersed and consumed with interest in round flat object that she was examining.

Lara Croft did not lose her stride as she entered the room, leaving her stunned blonde haired companion standing transfixed at the library's entrance. She was used to people reacting as Buffy did and it always secretly amused her no end. With grace and poise she announced her arrival to the room's only occupant. "Well, Dawn? What have you been able to deduce?"

Dawn Summer's looked up from her private inspection, her eyes wide with amazement. "This…. This …. This is incredible, Lady Croft. I mean this is more then incredible, this is astounding! Is this real? I mean, are you sure it's not a copy? Because if it is, it's perfect, not only in detail, but presentation as well. I mean there is not so much as even a chip or a crack. It could have been crafted yesterday for all I know."

Lara smiled at her excitement, but showing none for herself. Instead allowing an almost serine mask form over her face as she answered her young protégés questions. "Trust me Dawn, it is very much real. I retrieved it myself from an earlier expedition off the coast of Greece."

Buffy had just caught up with Lara and was looking down with curiosity at the flat object in her sister's hands. "What is it?"

Lara pulled out a chair next to Dawn for herself and invited her, with a gesture, to educate the blonde.

"It's a plate, Buffy. I put it circa 300 BC during the height of Alexander III of Macedon's reign." Dawn's eyebrow arched looking for both approval and confirmation from the Mistress of the Manor sitting to her left.

Lara nodded with a glint a small pride in her eyes. "Well done, Dawn, most experts would have problems distinguishing such a detail given its perfection, they probably would have appraised it much younger in age."

Buffy's brow scrunched as she leaned over the chasm that separated the two women to gain a better angle of view of the plate being carefully held in her sister's hands. "Alexander the third? Whose he?"

Dawn went slightly pink in embarrassment for her elder sister, who was looking down at her quite immune to her question. Lara turned her head up to look at the Slayer more keenly in the eyes. "Alexander the third is more popularly known as Alexander the Great, Buffy."

"Oh. Well, yeah, *HIM* I've heard of."

Dawn proceeded, addressing Lara more then she was Buffy. "It's in excellent condition and it depicts one of the Labour's of Heracles, the seventh I think."

"Ninth." Lara corrected her leaning back in her chair, her left hand falling protectively over her stomach.

Without missing a beat, Dawn proceeded with her analysis. "But what is odd about this is that typically during the portrayal of stories the artesian presents the concluding aspects of the tale, not the beginning."

Lara shifted herself closer so that her line of sight was unobscured of the plate's central theme, but still keeping her hand placed protectively over her midsection. "What makes you so certain that this isn't the case here?"

"Well for starters, if this is Heracles ninth labour then he should have Queen Hippolyta's girdle in his possession. But he doesn't. Besides that he is also looking towards the Amazon's, not away."

"Queen Hippopotamus?"

"Hippolyta, Buffy, not Hippopotamus." A frustrated and growingly embarrassed sister corrected her elder sibling as Lara, offering an amused smile, and removed the ancient plate from the once-Key's grasp with her right free hand.

Feeling that this might be an opportunity to impress her new mentor, Dawn continued instructing her sister on the Amazon Myth. "The Amazon's, Buffy, despite what you might believe of popular fiction were a tribe of women and before you ask, no, not all of them were warriors. They were, rather, a collective of females who chose to shed their dependence upon the male of the species. Living relatively peaceful lives, tending to their own needs. Though it is true that some of their various noted accomplishments in literature were seen as being very … manly. They were not all Xena: The Warrior Princess types. They grew crops and they hunted. They herded animals and quite possibly were the very first semi-democratic society of their time. Straying far from the monarch based division of rule and law. Their leadership's were chosen every year, but unsurprisingly given that they were a female society surrounded by a male ruled one, their various elected leader's had to be able to physically compete on the same level of men."

"So that means?"

Dawn pinched the bridge of her nose in a Giles like manner. "It means, Buffy, for an Amazon to become elevated to rule for year, and to be accepted as the best to be taken seriously by other male-rulers, they all competed in physically demanding challenges. Queen Hippolyta was quite possibly, at the time, the most accomplished female athlete of her day on the planet."

Lara placed the plate flat upon the table, picking up the lecture where Dawn left off. "But it wasn't just the physical side of things either. Perspective candidates also had to prove themselves in battle, hunting and problem solving other then athletics. They all had to rise to the station that they sought, it wasn't a simple case of one person being the best in a majority of fields and falling short by only a few. The person who would rise up to the title of Queen had to be the best in all aspects and demands. Fail in one and the title would be lost and returned to the original barer."

"Wow. Talk about pressure." Buffy commented with awe. To be the best in one thing was in her way of thinking great, to be thought of the best in EVERYTHING, that was something she couldn't wrap her mind around. It was living a life were everyone expected her to earn 'A+' in everything she did. "Hang on. Wasn't that Sorbo Guy, y'know the legendary story of Hercules and stuff, well, wasn't he a good guy? Why would he be stealing a girdle from the Queen?"

Lara laughed at the innocence of the query. "Heracles, or 'Hercules', wasn't a 'hero' in the truest sense of the term. In fact if he was to exist in today's world he would be looked upon as an anti-social ruffian who probably would have spent more time in prison then out of it. If you look deeper into the Labours of Heracles, Buffy, deeper into the myth and the legend surrounding him you will discover a very selfish and disturbing individual. A person prone to boozing, brawling and bedding. A man who was abnormally strong and who lorded it over everyone else. A Bully in the purest definition of the term. An arrogant and ego-centric man who sought to glorify his name whether it was in accomplishment or scandal.

"In Ancient times, Buffy, the Greeks did not distinguish character from deed. A person could be the devil-incarnate, but if he was able to accomplish great and 'epic' things then most often then not a blind-eye would be turned towards their past indiscretions in order to protect the 'ideal' image of what they wanted that person to represent. So basically, Buffy, you should not confuse hero with heroic. Heavens, if you need more to compare, just look at the various 'Sports Stars' of today's era. How many have been caught in violent or drug related crimes? How many have been found in scandalised situations? How many such 'Heroes' have been before the Court's of your country and of mine only to receive a 'slap on the wrist' that would have various other unknown personalities placed in Prison? We as a people, Buffy, look after our celebrities until we grow tired of them. Then we conveniently start to forget the person and allow the legends to grow.

"The original Heracles, Buffy, you could say was a man who was more Devil then Saint. But that was always the way with the Greek's and their hero's. None of them were ever perfect; they all had flaws that made them decidedly 'human' and relatable. Zeus was an old Horn Dog, Achilles was arrogant as the day was long, and Theseus was determined, so on and so forth. Heracles famed 12-Labors were in fact penance for him murdering his wife and twin boys. Some stories claim that he got blind drunk one night and went into a rage slaying them all with his bare hands. However, 'supporters' of the 'Godly Version' of the Heracles myth claim that Hera, Queen of the Olympian's, who was offended at the mere existence of Heracles as he was living evidence of her own husband and King of Greek God's repeated infidelity with mortal's took exception to him and chose to plague him with a temporary madness. In this frenzy he murdered his wife and boys in their sleep. You can either believe in the frailty of man or in the omnipotent vengeance of a Greek Goddess, regardless, he as a man, myth and character was fearful of what might happen to his soul if he arrived in Hades Underworld.

"Wracked with the fear of what he would have to endure for eternity for perpetrating such a crime, as no crime in the eyes of the Greek's was greater then the cold blooded murder of ones own family, he decided to seek out a Seer. The Oracle told him that in order for him to earn a 'free-pass' and make amends for his earthly offence all he had to do was approach his long time rival and have him instruct him on a series nigh impossible challenges of his choosing. *Heracles*, Buffy, was not a romantic figure of Disney Cartoon's and various Hollywood Productions. He was, if you strip away the veneer and look at the core of the original story, an arrogant brutish man afraid of his comeuppance."

"Yeah, but that still doesn't explain why on the plate he's not holding a girdle?"

Dawn all but screeched out in embarrassment to her sister's question. "Because Buffy as I said this is a depiction of Heracles arrival, not departure."

With a steady and commanding finger Buffy pointed down at the plate. "Then why is the boat facing away from the shore, _'Ms I-Go-to-Oxford-and-I-know-Everything'_?"

To the side of the feuding siblings the sound of a lone applause echoed throughout the library. "Well done, Buffy. I was wondering if she would ever notice that small piece of data."

Dawn's face grew crimson; she picked up the plate carefully and studied it once more. Buffy was right, the ship was pointing away from the land, which meant that this was an admission to the ancient story that she was not aware of. "But if he's leaving, why is he looking towards the women?"

On the plate, Heracles stood larger than life dwarfing all other images looking towards an almost pathetic gathering of figures, who by their shape, curves and long hair, Dawn surmised were females.

With a calm and steady voice Lady Croft pondered aloud to both Dawn and Buffy. "I ask you this, why would you look back on something that you are leaving willingly?"

Lara's question hung tightly in the air between both females. Both sisters looked at the other wondering who would be able to answer the riddle first. Buffy took the first attempt.

"Because he might have forgot something?"

Lara shook her head.

It was now Dawn's turn to step up to the plate, so to speak. She took a deep breath and considered all that she knew about the mythical hero. "Because he left something very important to him with the Amazon's?"

"Correct."

The Slayer and the Key looked at each other with curiosity, then at the plate with further scrutiny. To their eyes nothing really seemed amiss, but then again they both didn't know what they were looking for either in the ancient ceramic. So the mystery only made them more and more frustrated.

Carefully and with ease a fine and perfect finger belonging to Lady Croft drew itself across the breach and singled out a lone and tiny figure in front of all the other female representations. It was a female a third the size of all the others.

Dawn's mouth opened involuntarily, understanding immediately what was being shown to her. Buffy, however, still had a very perplexed look on her features.

Observing that the blonde was having difficulty keeping up with the tones of what was being communicated, Lara continued on with the lecture. "Like Chinese Whisper's, with the telling and the re-telling of the myth of Heracles it experienced many variations. Some portions of the story remain adamant, whereas others differ significantly. With relation to the Ninth Labour, one thing however remains constant, whether it was by invitation or by force Heracles and Queen Hippolyta had ..."

"… Sex" Dawn finished off.

"Yes." Lara said with a nod. "But my money, however, is based on the possibility that it was a consentional act and not rape."

"Why?"

"Because, Buffy, if Heracles had violated their Queen, as mighty a fighter as he was, he never would have made it out of the village alive."

Lara's finger traced over the masculine image of the rendered Heracles. "The Amazon's would have looked upon Heracles, with all his strength and other attributes and considered him a prime specimen for breeding. And Heracles, being as arrogant as many myths and stories support would have considered that only the Queen worthy enough to be his mate. Bare in mind, Heracles would have known that only Queen Hippolyta, would have had to have proven herself to have been the best of the best of all present and as such it would have appealed to his enormous ego."

"And still he goes when he has his fun?"

"In fairness, Buffy, I think he was awaiting to find out the sex of the child before he departed. The Amazon's were a single sex tribe, in order to prevent their population dwindling they used to do raiding parties of nearby villages, kidnapping the fit young men. Holding them for an indefinite time. A time that was spent where they were repeatedly copulated with. When a certain acceptable number females had become impregnated the young man would be returned back to his tribe. Where I am sure he received a hero's welcome and high-fives from all the other young warriors. Nine months later, if the females gave birth to boys they returned the infants to the village of the father to be raised, and if they were female they would be raised as Amazon's."

"What a gyp."

"Actually, Buffy," Dawn stepped in. "It would have been considered a pretty favourable system. In Ancient Times the value of males superseded females ten-fold. To be born a female would probably place your value to that of a goat or a dozen chickens. Many Villages that would surround the Amazon Territory would look at this as a win-win."

"So what? Queen Hippo has a daughter and Heracles decides he doesn't want anything to do with it?"

"In truth, Buffy, Heracles probably didn't have much of a choice. Amazon Law would have dictated that the child would have had to have been raised as one of them. As formidable as he probably was, he was not invincible. I suspect that the inclusion to the myth of the girdle was probably a bribe for him to leave peacefully and too never come back."

"But still, too give up your own child?"

"Different times, different values. And remember in Heracles eyes it wasn't a child. A *SON* was a child. A daughter would have been seen as a burden and an embarrassment to his virility and manliness."

Dawn picked up the plate once more and examined it in closer detail. "If you don't mind me asking Lara, but how do we even know that it's authentic? I mean sure it looks real and I believe it is certainly period appropriate. But how do we know that the detail it is offering is accurate and true?"

"I'm glad you got around to asking that question, Dawn. Because I retrieved it from the 'Lunar Temple'."

"Hang on. I remember that. Two years ago off the coast of Greece, a sea quake opened up the sunken temple. But … but didn't aftershocks close it again?"

"Yes, but not before I recorded its location. Sadly those aftershocks destroyed close too 90-percent that had been left intact for over two thousand years, what you have in your hands now is a piece of the remaining 10-percent that was not disturbed or harmed."

Dawn now looked more reverently upon the piece. All doubts now removed. Unfortunately the Slayer did not understand the significance.

"Excuse me, but how does that mean that this is not a sham?"

"Because it came from the Lunar Temple, Buffy. Weren't you listening?"

"Listening. But not getting. Could you guys start recognising that my understanding of History really only extends too 'American', and in that I only got a 'B'. So throw me a life line, I'm begging you."

"The Lunar Temple, Buffy was Alexander the Great's private depository of knowledge and truth. Alexander was not some megalomaniac who wanted to conquer the world. Sure, he wanted to do that, he aspired to great things. But he wanted to do it for, I daresay, the right and noble reasons. He wanted to bring enlightenment and education to the world. He wanted to draw out from the various Tribes of the World the ages of darkness and superstitions and replace it with illumination and reason. He wanted to educate the people, Buffy. Regardless of their race, religion, sex or orientation. If this plate was found in his Temple, Buff, then it meant that it was significant and told the truth of the story of Heracles. Alexander would have allowed nothing less to have graced his Temple's confines then the absolute truth."

With the tips of her fingers, Buffy commenced to rub her temples. For some bizarre reason she had just been onset by the mother of all headaches. But this tale was proving to be too fascinating for her to interrupt it with a request for aspirin. "Okay, so to recap: Hercules has a daughter and returns back to Greece leaving her to be raised by the Amazon's. So what's next? What happened to her?"

Lara leaned back in her chair and folded her arms in front of her. "Ahh, now that is where we fall into a bit of disrepair and have to rely on the overlapping of many other stories, Buffy. My gentleman friend, who I mentioned to you both earlier this evening, has been working on this from the other end. He's been working on this tale backwards and several months ago he asked me to see if I might be able to use some of my considerable resources to find some connection and for me to work forwards. With the aim of possibly meeting in the middle. This plate, to date, is what I have been able to link to his own discoveries, but I daresay it is not exactly what he will be expecting."

Dawn angled her body to more firmly face her new mentor, her brow crunched. "Why? What's his idea?"

"Well, to be honest Dawn, he doesn't have one. He knows what happened to the girl, but not to her true origins. He has no idea of my theory of this girl-child of his being the off-spring of a Demi-God and an Amazonian Queen. He's been working another hypothesis, his theory though just happens to neatly tie in with this one.

"His research and I have to say in advance that it was considerable given that Africa didn't have any written language 3,000 years ago and that he was reliant upon the validity of word-of-mouth from Village Story Teller to Story Teller. Anyway his independent discoveries tell of a girl who was born with incredible strength, speed, agility and near inhuman tolerances. A female child, who could by the time she could stand and walk, possessed and easily matched the physical strength of a fully grown man. This 'girl' was born to a tribe where its Leader was selected by contest of physical strength and merit. Sound familiar, doesn't it? Much like our Amazon friend's."

Buffy and Dawn both briefly shared a glance to one another then looked down upon the plate again, focusing their attention upon the painted figures of the female Amazon's and the smaller figure standing at the front of the group.

"The trouble was that her athletic abilities were not earned unlike others in her tribe. She didn't have to train or work hard, her skills, strength, speed; endurance and agility were all natural. This made her arrogant. According to folklore, the various elder's of the Tribe were concerned that when she reached the age to compete for the Leadership of their people that she would triumph with little resistance. And instead of having a temporary and humble leader who knew of the valour and the abilities of her people like all the other Queen's before her, they would instead have one full of ego who lacked an appreciation to the worth of her subjects. What was worse then bowing to the will of an arrogant Queen was that there existed little chance that by law this Queen would not be able to be deposed. For if she won the right to lead by way of competition then it was generally believed that she had the favour of the God's to do so. And as was her right, as with every Amazonian Queen before her, she also had the opportunity to compete every year, WIN every year and thereby keep the Crown securely upon their brow every year.

"This secessional oversight, as it was, had the Elder's of her Village justly concerned to what her leadership might wrought, so they hatched a plot. A full season prior to her eligibility to compete they called her to attend a Council Meeting. There they flattered her with affirmations towards her fierce hunting and fighting abilities. They then told her of news that had reached their ears of a great and dangerous creature that threatened to consume all the innocence of the world and that only *she*, it was decided, had the abilities to face and defeat this monster in battle. Full of self importance and pride towards being chosen over all of her other 'sisters' she pledged a vow to do war with this creature and not to return home until she had been victorious."

"So just like that, she left?" Dawn said incredulously.

"Apparently. At least according to folklore. I suppose you could explain it away as she was either eager to test her abilities on a worthy candidate, or maybe she inherited Heracles famed bluster. Who really knows? At any rate from Village to Village she went in search of this figment, facing all manner of evil creatures in her travels and vanquishing each and every one of them. But never in that time did she find the one that her Elder's had described. Eventually, whether it was to exhaustion of always constantly fighting or due to battling a creature that was maybe a little bit faster and stronger then she was expecting. She found herself bested, but not before destroying that which would eventually take her life.

"Part dead she dragged herself into a nearby village, a village she had protected from further ravages of the creature she slew. The warrior's carried her to their Healer, the Medicine Man tried to tend to her injuries but unfortunately the wounds were beyond his skills and he knew she was not much long for this world.

"This young girl had earned quite a reputation in the villages she had been at. Knowing that her time was nearly done he became worried for what might happen if she died without a successor. He was able to keep her alive, barely and only very temporarily. He sent Runner's out in all directions to other villages demanding an immediate and urgent audience of others of his profession to join him. When they arrived the group conferred and in their shared desperation they condemned her soul."

"What do you mean?"

"The world back then, Dawn, had evil that walked under the guise of night and this dying girl had earned notoriety within the region for being able to keep such things at bay. They felt that she could not be blessed with the death and reward that was dearly due to her. Her skills and abilities were needed far too greatly in the living world. So they selfishly made the decision to bind her spirit to the mortal realm. Her body may decay, but her warrior soul would jump from vessel to vessel and continue her eternal fight and quest."

Buffy and Dawn did not know when the two of them had started to hold the other's hand. But they felt reassured by the simple contact. The story Lara Croft was telling was becoming far more familiar and eerily with the telling of it. And deep inside the mind of the Slayer her brain was throbbing like never before.

"For all the good she had done, the poor child was cursed to never know rest until she did away with the 'fictitious monster' that her Village Elder's had sent her to slay. And her random and appointed vessels would never be free of her curse until they died or until they found the Love that they sought."

Buffy's hand went limp in Dawn's grasp and dropped to her side in shock at the last thing just spoken. "Sorry, what did you say? What do you mean 'Love' freeing them of the 'Curse'?"

Unfolding her arms and turning herself slightly to look upwards to address the blonde, Lara, answered with supreme confidence to her claim. "Yes, Buffy. Every Curse, no matter how it was given form, has in it a back door clause."

Under her breath the utterance of _'You're telling me'_ could be barely heard from one of the two visitors', but Lara did not react.

"And as Cliché as it is, Love is a very powerful and emotional force where Magic is concerned. All Magic is driven by some form of passion. Whether that passion is positive or negative. Curses created from anger and hate are typically countered and nullified by opposite emotions such as Love, Affection or Devotion of some form and visa Vera."

Now it was Buffy's turn to fold her arms. "Okay let me throw this out there, hypothesis wise. Let's say a guy is, I don't know, 'cursed'. He was a bad-guy before, cursed, and then becomes a good-guy. Where is the anger in that? The Curse made him a good guy."

Lara laughed a polite laugh as though she was finding amusement in some private joke, after a brief moment she composed herself and answered. "Don't confuse the intent of the curse, to the orchestration of it, Buffy. If he became a 'good-guy', I'm sure he wouldn't regret such a transition would beset upon him. But enduring the memories of a time when he was a 'bad-guy' and living with the fear of becoming such a person again *that* is where the administration of the hate and the anger comes from. The 'curse' is him being the 'good guy', and the threat of becoming a 'bad guy' if he broke the conditions of the curse. If the recipient of a curse is not in some turmoil 24/7 then it really doesn't play as a curse now does it?"

"R-i-i-g-g-h-h-t-t. Got it." Buffy nodded in _'ignorant understanding'_. Lara had passed her little test, though not an obvious authority, she did know a little bit more then the lay person on the topic. "So Curses based from anger and hate usually has peace and love as a loop-hole to having them broken?"

Lady Croft shock her head. "Not exactly. That's a very simplistic explanation, but for close to 90-percent of most 'curses' I daresay all it usually takes a bit of genuine love and tenderness to make the spell collapse upon itself, or at the very least the applications or simulation of such affections do. If in doubt just think back to nearly every Fairy Tale you have ever heard as a child where a curse had been performed, these childhood tales of wonder have been said to have been based in some fact is only by a small degree, but what if the magical portions of them were true?. And think of the various counters towards breaking their spells? Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, Beauty and the Beast, The Princess and the Frog, and a thousand others. All had 'Love', or the simple demonstration of such, prominent in ending their curses.

"The Medicine Men, Witch Doctor's, Shaman's, Wizard's, Holy Men of this ancient story, call them what you want; they could not force a curse upon an innocent being that did not have the ability of being broken. No-one really can, at least no-one human and who was mortal. Otherworldly sources might be able to condemn without repercussions, but then again these beings would be drawing upon magic and sorcery that are not governed or manipulated by 'mortal' comprehension. Curses that are created by a mortal and a souled being must always have loop holes, a chance for freedom and redemption by the bearer. But in controlling the loop holes to escape a curse you also must submit control to the conditions of the curse itself. You cannot side one without making allowances for the other."

"Huh?"

Becoming concerned that her sister was misrepresenting her own intelligence, Dawn spoke up to answer the blonde's confusion before the brunette adventurer could. "Basically, Buffy, what Lady Croft is saying is that you cannot have a broad curse without a broad loop hole to remove the curse. The larger and grander the curse the more vulnerable you make it towards being broken with an equally sizable _'get out of jail free'_ card attached. Same goes with a narrowly defined curse too, it needs an equally narrow opportunity for the recipient to gain their allotted freedom. For a curse to have a near indefinite shelf-life the wielder has to make it very specific. This is what these Witch Doctors did. They tailor-made their curse so that it would fit this girl's soul and character like a very tight glove. A curse that was a pure reflection of her core personality and one that she could not resist or deny. And because the curse was so 'form-fitting' and one targeted towards her core-character it becomes unlikely that it will ever be broken consciously. Understand?"

"Not really."

Lara held up her hand to steady Dawn's further explanation, the expression on the face of the young female betraying the annoyance and frustration that her sister was subjecting to her reputation. With calming influence in her tone, Lara once again took over in explaining herself. "Very well Buffy, let me spell it out to you in another way and one relevant to this young woman's sad lot. This young lady never really knew love; at least not the romantic kind. She was from a tribe full of women, she knew about kinship and duty, nothing more. She was training herself to be a Warrior and a Hunter, and eventually aspiring to become a Leader. Love and affection would have been seen by her as a … inconvenience and hindrance to either role. So throughout her life and maturity she avoided it with some measure of success. What she understood above all else was loyalty and devotion. The Witch Doctor's who ended up binding her spirit knew this and they made this personality glitch intricate towards her voyaging soul finding itself a suitable vessel. Making the countless number of intended Host's that the spirit would chose to inhabit over the numerous generations to come already pre-vulnerable to certain factor's that would be both appealing to the character of the Spirit and the parameter's of the curse placed upon it. These Tribal Holy Men were, as the saying goes, 'stacking the deck' in their favour thereby narrowing the opportunity of freedom to an almost finite chance that of the curse ever being broken and her wandering soul ever finding the deserved peace it had earned."

"That's … that's so cruel. How could they do that to her, let alone to all the one's she ghosted into. Forcing people time and again to*"

Lara cut the Slayer off from her speech, correcting her on a few cruel facts before the discussion strayed in a tangent on morality. "They were, from a certain stand point, not 'forcing' any thing on anybody, Buffy. Not the Spirit and not the young women who would eventually become the Spirit's vessels. The host's who would accept the Warrior Essence into their being would already be pre-disposed to the emotional mindset of this 'Spirit' becoming an influence in their lives. This pre-determination, this factor-selection, would ensure the longevity of the curse, enabling the guidance of the vessel's by the Slayer-Soul to shy away from other elements that would offer them their 'freedom'. Remember what Dawn said to you earlier, females had a lower value in the ancient world then males. As such what they did to this young girl and for all those females that followed would have been seen as a necessary evil and one that they would not lose any sleep over. A different time equal's different values, who is to say that a thousand years from now that 'OUR' way of life won't be interpreted as barbaric, frivolous or decedent?"

Buffy mumbled her heated reply to the Ladyship's question. "Oh, I don't know, maybe common sense."

Lara offered the blonde dynamo a smile that revealed a perfect row of teeth with no pretence. "Women back in this age and culture were perceived as 'property' and suitable for menial labours and child bearing. They had no vote, no voice, and no opinion in a man's world. It was probably for this very reason that some chose to segment themselves apart from the whole and form the Amazon Nation. These 'Vessels' were not random choices. They all met the criteria deemed acceptable for the Spirit's continued existence, physically and psychologically.

"To offer you a mental-visual to what I mean just imagine an animal being raised to only live inside a penned or fenced area. Then one day you open the gate. What happens? Does the beast bolt? No, the poor creature is left confused. It would much rather stay within the boundaries of the 'World' it knows and is safe in then venture out into the scary unknown. The Slayer-Spirit is this 'animal'. It is trapped in the mind, body, soul and emotions of whatever girl it becomes suddenly linked too. It might be able to assimilate to the age and the culture, but emotionally, at its very core, it is still an Amazon Warrior and as such it possesses a 'Live by the Sword and Die by the Sword' approach on life with little forethought to its future, family or life beyond its own destiny. The girl's that were chosen by way of the curse were generally no different. They were ones who were emotionally uncertain towards the general point of their existence and most likely ones who doubted their value or worth and/or contribution to others. Young girl's who were at a tragic crossroads in their collective lives, ones who were maybe one or two arguments away from cutting their own wrists. Girls, who without knowing it, would subconsciously welcome a strong and dominant influence to help direct their lives. These girls were the unknowing quarry of the Slayer Spirit. Girls who wanted to take some level of control over their lives and were prepared to sub-consciously give-up whatever they had to in-order to achieve it, even part of their own soul and life if they had too."

Buffy's headache was now thundering to the point where she was actually surprised that she did not have blood coming out of her ears. Her eyes beaded down upon the brunette beauty, she didn't enjoy being compared to that of a simple farm animal, especially where her love life was concerned or having herself referenced as some emotional mess-up. But thinking back upon her various suitor's in the past, nearly all of them from Angel, Riley, Spike, all the way to 'The Immortal', they all were typically the 'take-charge' kinda boyfriends that she usually latched on too.

"You seem to know a Hell of a lot about this, infact this kinda has moved off from being a simple bit of conversation about some stone-age Tupperware and into a completely different area and I want to know where you're leading us."

With a sad nod of acceptance, Lara answered the slayer's suspicious question. "Sadly you are correct, I do know more about this subject then I am comfortable in admitting."

Lara then pushed herself away from the table and got up from her seat, approaching a shelf where a very thick Leather Bound Book was stacked vertically. With an effort she drew it out and lumbered it over to the table that Dawn and Buffy were still sitting and standing at. "You see I have a very deep, and you might even say shameful connection to the daughter of Heracles, Buffy, or at least my family does."

With due care, the brunette beauty placed the large bound book upon the polished wooden dining table. "They are called 'Chosen Ones' or more popularly known within a select community and sect that they circulate also known as 'Vampire Slayers'. Basically, as the legend goes, it eventually falls to one female child born in every generation who becomes obligated to combat the evils that stalk the night and combat the terrors that prey and haunt our most fearful dreams and histories."

Lara then released the aged clasps on the sides and opened the Tomb to the mid section to reveal an intricate page of writing centuries old, ignoring with ease the stunned looks upon the two sisters. "My Great-Great-Great-Great-Great-Grandfather was what was known in that same very closed off society as a 'Watcher'. And at one time he was even responsible for his very own 'Chosen One' as well a girl, a Vampire Slayer by the name of 'May'. She was 'called' on her sixteenth year, most Chosen Ones apparently are. According to this memoir of his my ancestor believed that this age to be quiet relevant towards their ascension from being a mere girl to being something else entirely. Given my more recent research, I believe that it is likely that 16 was the age that the daughter of Heracles passed over. At any rate, May, lasted all of about two years before she met her own demise. Killed by a Coven of Witches in the late 1700's.

"When she died my ancestor didn't have the heart to continue on with his 'calling' as a Watcher. So he concluded his relationship and severed all ties with the Society. Still relatively young he started a family and did his best to keep to the periphery of the Council's notice. But as he advanced in his years he became more disheartened and disillusioned with the Order he had so much faith in when he was a younger man. He vented this disappointment and anger by way of this book, asking questions that he never before dared asked. Even going to extreme lengths to seek possible explanations to his hundreds of queries. This Text is the compiling of three-decades of his independent labours and research. Work that sheds an unflattering light upon Watcher doctrine and Slayer History." Lara finished her claim by broadly gesturing over the book before her.

Buffy's curiosity was overwhelming, she inched closer. "Why? What does it say? And what was that crack about these 'Vessels' not knowing about love?"

"I wasn't speaking specifically about the individual, Buffy. I was generalising and speaking in relation to the nature and foundations of the curse itself. My gentleman friend in Africa was able to find a reference to this in a few of the several stories that he had tracked down. It was through no small effort on his part to sift through the quagmire of folk stories to find ones that supported the legend of a lone female warrior. And the revelations of his own research appears to be concurred by my Ancestor as well; who considered the question of what it was that separated these 'Chosen Ones' from other girls the same age. And both discovered that each girl, at the time of their selection, were at a intersection of emotional doubt towards love, that is not to say that they disbelieved in it's existence, just that they all thought, or despaired rather, that they would live their life without it."

For whatever reason Buffy found her head nodding in agreement. She remembered nearly to the day when she discovered she had been 'called'. It was the same time her Mom and Dad were fighting and more and more talk of divorce was being heard through the thin bedroom walls that separated her room from their's. It was one of the lowest points of her young life. What was worse was that during those arguments her name kept being lobbied back and forth like a hand grenade on who'd have to shoulder the burden of raising her. She had turned to her _'Hemley Posse'_ but they made the Cordette's look like a gang of Mother Theresa's and if it didn't involve the latest fashion, boy's or the next big party to attend they were all pretty oblivious to the emotional pain of one of their number. Not even her Boyfriend at the time was sympathetic to her plight, the only time he seemed to even acknowledge her existence was when they were in the back seat of his car. All the other times she was just a 'non-person' in his eyes with no opinion, only a body with kissable lips.

At the time she became 'The Slayer' she had no true friends, no reliable BF, hell, even her own parents were using her in their tug of war, with the loser being the one forced to take custody. During that time she never felt more unloved or more in question into the existence *OF* love. So maybe what Lara was saying was actually on the money. She couldn't have imagined Faith to have had a perfect up-bringing. And Kennedy once mentioned that her parent's were so rich that they paid servant's to look after her while they travelled around the world. Maybe all Slayers', prior to them being called, lived a life of self-resentment and self-pity?

"But if a Chosen One *did* fall in Love after being called. *REAL* Love, not the puppy dog kind. The curse that permitted the Slayer Spirit inhabiting their body would be broken and the Slayer Soul would move on to some other poor wretch."

Lara's statement suddenly caught Buffy's attention and she was drawn out from her internal ponderings causing her to listen more keenly.

"… According to my forefather and my gentleman friend, the Warrior's Soul that inhabited these girls doesn't know how to deal with love; it can't cope with that type of intimacy which is why it flees. That's why the Watcher's, once a Chosen One is found, typically used to isolate them away from all other contact, males especially. But according to this," Lara tapped the print of the ancient pages hard "there had been dozens of instances and accounts where a Slayer was found, fell in love, then lost her powers and went on to live normal lives. Much to the frustration of the Council who had to search far and wide again for another recipient host."

Instinctively Dawn raised her hand to ask a question. "So what you're saying is that, what did you call them? … _'Slayer's,_ these people actually exist and there was a secret organisation created to monitor such people and to stop them falling in love? An entire Organisation created to curb the love-lives of a bunch of teenage girls?"

Buffy couldn't help but smirk at the futility of her sister's efforts to distance the Summer Siblings from this extraordinary tale. Unfortunately Buffy had been caught in traps like this before. Lara knew EXACTLY who her audience was and there was not a doubt in her mind that she knew that a Vampire Slayer was standing in her presence; everything right now was for pure show. A subtle reference to them both that she knew the truth of who she was. The warm feelings Buffy was beginning to feel for her Ladyship when they were outside chatting with one another was now starting to chill. The best they could do as a pair would be to 'play dumb' and see how far this '_Rich Bitch'_ would take the charade. Hopefully gleaming from her more information as they did so.

Lara shrugged at the question. "To be frank, Dawn, I can't be certain of anything. It seems extraordinary, but stranger things have happened. The Watcher Organisation existed for the sole purpose of supervising and instructing 'Chosen Ones', it wouldn't be too surprising that they would take their role further and try and control their love lives as well, would it? I am even lead to believe from this Book that if a Chosen One wasn't living up to their potential, the Watcher's used to take a less active role in their guidance. Eventually, with the slackness of supervision the girl would find their 'one-and-only' and the spirit would move on. I believe though that this became too random for them, after all, what happens if the girl didn't find her 'soul mate' straight away? They would be left a Chosen One who couldn't measure up to their expectations. And because Watcher's considered themselves to be 'righteous people' they couldn't go about killing these young women themselves and sending the spirit on it's way, so they started looking into tests, serums and the like to be administered in their 17th year. Chemicals and drugs that would nullify and suppress the Slayer's Spirit influence. If the candidate survived the tests then they had a 'Prized Warrior' on their hands, if not then they would start afresh and they would be able to wash their hands clean of the bloodshed that they caused. Three-hundred years ago the success rate was 50/50; today I would estimate that it would be considerably lower."

"And you are confident of everything you're telling us is true? That Slayer's are the … the spiritual descendant of an Amazon Queen and a Demi-God?"

Lara shrugged her left shoulder once more, the only subjection of doubt to her own words that she was willing to offer. "No, Dawn, I am not a hundred percent certain. What I have done is adjoin two completely different stories. Not even stories really; stories can be based in some fact. What I have done is incorporated a myth, some African Folklore and something from a fanciful dream belonging to Anne Rice. It's hardly something I could get 'respectable' people to take seriously. But that's why, Dawn, I usually work alone. The risk's of error are greater, but then again so are the rewards.

"You'll learn in Archaeology that sometimes the greatest of discoveries are not what seem logical, but rather what seems … inspired. In this instance, as I said, I could very be much mistaken. What I know is what is written in my forefather's memoir. If it belonged to anyone else I would be sceptical, but in this case it is quite detailed and I have a great deal of faith in its accuracy. After all, if there is one thing I can speak with any authority it is this, we Croft's are quite obsessive. When he decided to commit and document his findings and conclusions he would have made sure he had left no practical and available stone unturned. Quite a feat considering the Council of the day had confiscated all his records when he chose to 'retire', leaving him a pariah in that community. But that did not deter him or mean that in his twilight years he couldn't chose to go on record with some of his discoveries and beliefs. This Book sat pretty much unopened and unread for I daresay a better part of half-a-century." Errantly Lara stroked the outer edges of the cover, while her face supported a look that offered the sisters someone who appeared to be almost lost in some distant and pleasant memory.

"I remember of a time when I was a little girl and I had seen _'An American Werewolf in London'_ on the Telly. I was awake far beyond my allocated bed time and what I saw on the screen, well considering I was seven; it frightened me a great deal. My father found me crying in my wardrobe. He then sat me on his knee and instead of scolding me for sneaking a peek at a movie that was too old for me to really understand, he instead told me of a fantastic story. A story about an ancestor of ours who was part of a secret society that fought such things. Werewolves, Demon's, Witches and Warlocks and even Vampires. I just believed it to be romantic nonsense at the time, pure fantasy, but recently I discovered that there might have been more too it so I scoured the Library trying to find some reference to this ancestor's life as well as this supposed 'Secret Society'. Four months ago, in an unlighted area and I must admit unused section of this grand room, I found it. A lifetime's worth of thoughts and opinions on Slayer's and some of the myths surrounding them."

Buffy reached over and touched the dry leather of the aged book, just as Lara had a moment earlier, in some way feeling like she was touching the Holy Grail itself. Her headache now starting to ebb away, but only slightly. "You mean too say this Book is everything he was able to acquire on Vampire Slayer's? What makes them tick? He did a detailed study?"

Lara nodded her head in affirmation, suppressing a smile from forming over her lush lips towards the desperate 'edge' in Buffy's voice. "As detailed as he probably could have accomplished given his limited resources at the time and of the Age he lived in. Bare in mind he did have the good fortune of having his very own Chosen One to reference as well. Sadly, however, I doubt his understanding of the 'Slayer Spirit' was one similar to what we have spoken of this night. Three hundred years ago he would have looked upon a virginal young girl who was miraculously ordained with the strength and skills to do battle with monsters, demons and vampires as something a little more … holy in nature.

"What was significantly interesting to me was that he was able to distinguish and separate the personality of May and the 'Slayer'. As well as expose the progression of the Spirit's influence upon May's character over the time of its infestation. For you to truly appreciate the significance of this you must comprehend that this was an easy two centuries before the birth of psychology. My ancestor was able to recount in his documentation that May's personality progressively shifted, not through environmental or natural factors, but rather through the onset and domination of the Slayer essence that had now inhabited her. "

"What do you mean?"

"When Lord George Croft was first introduced to May and was instructed by the Council to be her Mentor and Watcher he recalled a young girl very much resistive to her destiny. Almost obstinate. She was a farmer's daughter and one born to a simpler lifestyle. The Family were given a handsome sum and she was sold to the Croft Estate under the guise of becoming a Servant-Girl."

"SOLD? As in slavery?"

"It was common practice at the time, especially if a family found themselves in financial difficulty or debt. True, it maybe a repugnant prospect now, but three-hundred years ago it was considered an acceptable, honourable and advantageous exchange to that of winding up in a 'Debtors Prison'. A gruesome and bleak alternative to anyone who fell behind in their taxes and one which probably would have happened to the head of May's family thanks to the 'Poor Law' that was passed in 1601."

"Poor Law? That's barbaric. You mean people were sentenced to prison just because they didn't have enough money?"

"No money meant no one paid their taxes or bills, Buffy. No paid Taxes meant no finances for wars, upkeep of roads, constables or anything else society at the time valued important. And to term these places 'Prison's was probably due to the fact that families were forced to live there against their will. They were like 'Workhouses' akin to the kind described in Charles Dickens's Oliver Twist. If a family found themselves in debt of Taxes owed, they would have all their assets removed from them, and they would be sentenced to live in a 'Workhouse' doing soul destroying tasks earning pittance until their labours had cleared what was owed to the Government. Such a thing could take one year of collective toil, 5-years or even 15. Bare in mind, Buffy, that England back in the day, used to convict and send people, regardless of their age, to serve Life-Imprisonment all the way to Australia just because they stole half a loaf of stale mouldy bread because they were starving. Sensitivity towards a person's circumstance had no place in the courtroom back then. Right was right and wrong was wrong and allowing yourself to fall behind in your taxes was considered very, VERY, wrong."

"Still…." Buffy chewed on her lower lip.

Lara moved off the subject of her countries darker legal history more out of embarrassment and shame quickly, she did not feel comfortable getting in a debate over something such as this, especially as her family, being as highly stationed as they were during the time would have been exempt of any threats or like punishments. "The money that Lord George Croft provided would have gone straight to the family to benefit said family, not some Slaver who had just kidnapped the child. As despicable as the whole system was this kind of thing was seen as both acceptable and common practice. I am even certain that in some weird way May's mother and father probably thought this option was also one that would ultimately benefit their daughter. Though I am certain that as she was being transported away in his Lordship's personal carriage that her parents were probably silently thinking to themselves that their daughter's services would not exactly be suited to making beds for the thirty-something and very SINGLE Lord of the Manor, but rather that her various skills would be expected to that of lying on top of them. But still it was as good of a 'beard' as anything else for the legal acquisition of the young lady at the time.

"At any rate as her instruction and training began she would repeatedly ask Lord George: _'Why her?_' Demanding that all she wanted was to be like all the other girls her same age, that she didn't want to be this 'Chosen One' and what had she done to deserve this fate? However as the months progressed, May's demeanour changed markedly in my ancestor's eyes, she began too almost revel in her role as a Slayer. She would no longer speak as though being a Chosen One was an unwanted burden, but rather the direct opposite. She used to act as though this was her destiny and hers alone. Completely disregarding relevant cautionary tales of the many other Slayer's that had come before her, but rather treating her own and temporary 'reign' as the Chosen like she was the One-and-Only.

"She even started to develop a thrill towards the task of killing, a bloodlust if you will for nearly all things supernatural; this 'enthusiasm' is what eventually led to her demise. She went on a hunt for a single witch and instead came face-to-face with a coven. Instead of doing the logical thing and withdraw and reassess, she thought herself capable of challenging all three at once. A big, but brief mistake."

Dawn looked towards Buffy and commented under her breath. "Gee, a Slayer who bites off more then she can chew, that sounds familiar."

The elder Blonde ignored the snide remark, her mind more focused upon thoughts of aspects spoken earlier of the other Chosen One's who had been able to successfully able to get rid of the 'Slayer Spirit' and live a normal life. Taking a deep breath she pressed her question so that they would get back on track to what was said a moment earlier and not stray any further a field. "You said that if a Vampire Slayer falls in love, this love acts like kryptonite to this Spirit-Thing inhabiting her. That it untangles itself then goes off and latches onto some other girl, right?"

Lara shock her head. "No, the *Vessel* falls in love, not the Slayer. The Slayer aspect actually works very hard to keep such temptations away from its host. Even going to some extremes of simulating that emotion with other parties. But this deception is only employed if it finds its connection with their present Vessel a particularly compatible one and one that they do not wish to abandon."

"What do you mean by 'simulating'?"

"I mean, Buffy, that a young woman will always tend to seek out some form of connection or companionship with another. And if the Slayer's Host became emotionally connected with their True-Love all would be lost, at least as far as it was concerned. As you said, love is its kryptonite. So as a means of self-protection it encouraged its host to always reject, push away or try and diminish these feelings. Typically it accomplishes these three by steering her vessel to someone deemed physically acceptable, but not 'ideal'. Counterfeiting these emotions for them or maybe even redirecting emotions that are felt for this 'soul mate' and transplanting it to the Slayer's preferred choice for their Host.

"Try and understand that you are dealing with a three-thousand year old disembodied soul, one that has jumped from host-to-host in that time. It has no 'roots' to speak of or any true appreciation towards life-fulfilling love, it would generally see a Host as a temporary 'home', one that in a few or even several years it would move on from. So if it finds a vessel that is remotely compatible with its own needs and is a glove-like-fit for all its wants, you better believe that she will not want to give up that piece of real estate without a fight. I daresay that if the Spirit found a Host that echoed all her needs then there would be nothing it wouldn't do to stay latched in that body."

Dawn shock her head almost angrily. "No, I don't … I can't believe that! You're saying that a Slayer's love … if Slayer's exist, that their love life would be nothing but a sham. A manipulation?"

Lady Croft's tone softened to counter the heated one coming from the younger Summer's lips. "Dawn, it's not just their love but their life in total. From the moment they are 'Called', a Chosen One is exposed to the dictates of the Slayer's Spirit. They could pick up any weapon that they themselves had never laid eyes upon prior and be proficient in its use in the first try. Before they were 'Called' they may never have been able, or had, thrown a punch in their entire lives, yet overnight they become near Master's of nearly every fighting style imaginable. The moment the Spirit enters their Host body; these young girls have already become susceptible to its physical manipulation of their limbs and their sensors. How farfetched would it be to believe that such manipulations only stopped at the body and not the heart?"

Dawn instinctively looked up to the face of her elder sister, trying to read her features.

Lara continued either not noticing Dawn's worried expression or not caring. "If I was to ask a Slayer who had an extensive dating life if she fell too pieces after a break-up, I think I would get the typical response that she would be unhappy for a day or so and pick up the pieces and then move on. With a _'No Harm, No Foul'_ outlook to the experience. Other women would not be so lucky; it might take them weeks, months or even years to recover from heart ache. But because these feelings would be false ones, and because her emotions are being guided by an Amazon Warrior who believes that Love is a weakness, a 'Chosen One' would recover very quickly from her 'heart break', don't you see?"

Buffy's eyes narrowed vindictively to the raven hair beauty as she tried to ignore Dawn's startled expression looking up at her. In several sentences, Lady Croft had turned her love life into a joke. No! Worse then a joke, she was herself turned into someone's puppet. If there wasn't so much being said right now that didn't make sense to her on some conscious level then she would be outraged, but the truth was that everything that was being communicated was hitting some common cord of recognition. When Angel left her, she dealt and recovered from the abandonment within a week, same went for Parker and his betrayal. Hell, when Riley was offering his neck to vamp-whores, she was pissed at him and all mopey, but she moved on. Sure there were residual stuff with Spike, but that was only because of the intensity of their relationship and the fact that unlike the other's he didn't exactly leave her life but came back in it. Even with The Immortal, as recent and as painful as that bust-up was, she wasn't exactly losing any sleep over that either.

"According to my forefather's records the oldest Slayer to accomplish this 'de-spiritualisation', had been one for about five-years. She was a French Slayer who got terribly injured in a village on the outskirts of Rodez in the 16th Century. Poisoned, if memory serves by a demon's talon. She ended up spending close to month mending from the toxic effects of its venom. As she recuperated she fell in-love with the Town's Blacksmith, he was 23, god-fearing and single. A real catch too."

"A blacksmith? Are you kidding me? A sooty, smelly blacksmith?"

"I don't know Dawn; personally I find that men who are able to create something from out of raw material are pretty sexy. Blacksmith's, Builder's, Carpenter's, Craftsman's are all pretty impressive in my book. I think it has to do with the fact that they are good with their hands."

Dawn's cheeks blushed and a dreamy smile found itself plastered over her face. "Yeah, I guess you're right there. Guy's who know how to make and fix things are pretty hot. Definitely the hands." Lara chuckled and Dawn giggled at this shared 'meeting of opinions', Buffy however only glared down at the two.

"Excuse me? But weren't we just talking about how these girl's broke the curse?"

"My apologies, Buffy. Anyway, according to my ancestor's account the next morning after the pair had … 'consummated' this shared love and passion for the other, all the abnormal strength, speed and skills she had acquired were no more. All gone. According to follow-up investigations by the Watcher's she eventually lived till she was sixty-two, a ripe old age in the 1500's. Having three children, all boy's, to the Smithy prior to her passing in 1570.

"You could argue that she was the exception if it wasn't for some of the other accounts. But as I have already said, Vampire Slayer's and Love … it's really not that simple; or as cut and dry on the romance front as I am making it sound. Most girls when they are 'called' are already muddled up where the concept of love is involved, so they are not really 'open' to the possibility that love will come their way and are often distrustful when it is given. They would, either through their own experiences or by the Slayer's influences rather chose a more servile or dominant role in every union, either way it would not be an equal partnership."

"And that's important, is it?"

"Maybe not for many young women, Dawn. But a vessel who would be able to freely offer their heart, I suspect would only do so to someone whom they would view as an equal. Defining that type of equality however is a problem, for each recipient of the Slayer Spirit has different ways of measuring such things. And the Spirit that resides within interprets these desires and expectations. A thousand, even hundred's of years ago it probably would have been someone who was physically capable with keeping up with the demands of a Slayer's life that would have her eyes a fluttering. These day's however it could be something else entirely. It comes down to the individual vessel and what they value the most important. Strength? Looks? Charm? Courage? Honour? Intelligence? Loyalty? Heaven's, in this modern age it might be all 7 for all I know. But that person, who ever it might be, would have to be compatible with her own character for the curse to break."

"That sounds near impossible. The perfect man? Is there such a thing?"

"Finding the perfect man is not impossible, Dawn. Being able to *SEE* that person as the perfect man for you, however, can be quite daunting and difficult. This is why it was probably chosen as the loop-hole in this curse. Most Slayer initiates would undoubtedly lack the maturity to make these types of distinction and therefore it would only promote the longevity of the curse. But still, once chosen all boundaries that led them to being selected as vessel's are no more, after they are 'chosen' what follows on is based on strength of character and their own desire to share their life with another."

"What do you mean? Who wouldn't want that?"

"Well, Dawn, the young girl could come from an abusive or broken home, she could be neglected or feel neglected, she could be in a one-sided and underappreciated relationship, she might have a very low opinion of self or be over shadowed by other siblings. Regardless, the consistent trend of my forefather's research had been that Host Candidates all had either a low opinion of self and/or of love in general. But he believed, and I concur, that it didn't mean that they would be incapable of changing their outlooks and wanting to find love after they had been picked to be the next Slayer. In fact because of the 'curse' she is almost guaranteed that her true love would find her more then any other person alive."

Buffy had to unprized her teeth to ask the question that seemed to lay lazily in the silence of the library and one demanding to be asked. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"Well, from what I understand in my Forefather's writings, Fate doesn't work against Chosen Ones in the 'Love-Department', it actually works for them. When a Chosen One is called, things start being put into place by Fate, Fortune, Curse, Providence, Destiny, call it what you will, too ensure that their 'one and only' will eventually be accessible to them. Affection, devotion … love, its all part of the torment for the Slayer Spirit. Don't you see? As I said earlier, curses are about the torment of resisting 'temptation'. You resist the temptation placed in front of you and you can expect not to be severely punished. The trouble is that Chosen Ones aren't the ones cursed. There is nothing overly special or unique that set these girls aside from others, prior to their calling, they are normal everyday females. Just a little bit more depressed and full of teenage angst then most, that's all. A simple case of being the right kind of person in the wrong place at the wrong time. The one who is cursed is the *FIRST* Slayer. The Chosen Ones are her Vessel's; the nature of the Slayer's Curse will always put into place the temptation's to destroy the bind. Do you understand now?"

"Kinda." Buffy started to rubbed her temples as she started to pace up the length of the table, trying to get her facts straight in her pounding head. "So this Host, regardless of whether they believe in love or not, will be subjected to people who could break the spell but the Spirit will generally always guide the host away from such people? Because according to your theory, or rather the theory of your great-great-yudder-yudder-yudder to invite such people into the Vessel's life could end up weakening the curse surrounding the Host and getting the Spirit kicked out, this time possibly to someone it doesn't wanna 'inhabit' as much."

"That's right, at least pretty much. Also, from the 'Spirit's perspective it actually sees itself as doing these girls a favour. It sees itself as their benefactor. It is turning them from being full of self-doubt and possible loathing, depending upon the reassurances and support of a 'Man' and making them into something powerful and confident. A true *Amazon*. But just because the girls that are selected question 'Love', or had thought that Love was a weakness, it doesn't mean that they cannot aspire to attain it. The trouble is that from the moment they are 'called' they always have had this other 'impulse' in the back of their mind steering them in different directions. That small and tiny voice belonging to the Slayer. At least that's what my ancestor believed.

"Their true-love could be standing right in front of them with a neon sign telling them that _'I'm your destined true-love'_ and they wouldn't have a clue because the Slayer part of them wouldn't *let* them know it. *That's* the torment. That's the torture. To be exposed to your perfect match, to have all the boxes ticked and not being able to go through with it. Could you imagine anything more confusing and upsetting for a young woman? There could be someone who she would logically consider the perfect man, her perfect match, right beside her. But all she would have is, at best, this camaraderie for them. That is why so few vessels are able to break the curse; they would listen to just about everything except 'logic'. They would go from the moment of their 'calling' to their grave never knowing the wonders of 'true-love'. Opting instead to listen to their 'inner-voice' then follow their 'gut'

"They would however be thankfully oblivious to what they would be missing out on. But the Slayer-part wouldn't be. The Slayer aspect would be well aware of what it was denying their host, even if it found 'love' a repugnant concept. It would still be painfully aware that it was diverting the opportunity for its Host's happiness away from them especially if it is aware that 'Love' is the one thing their Vessel's want in the entire world. As such it would view its own conduct as a great insult towards its twisted and complicated sense of honour. That is the true torture and the torment of the Slayer. Always fighting to do right and save lives by destroying 'evil', but never feeling cleansed or good about it's actions because it is denying it's host a true chance of happiness."

Dawn raised her hand, unnecessarily, once more. "But wouldn't the Host be able to work it out? I mean if I hear voices in my head, I'm gonna be a little bit worried. And if these voices tell me not to associate with a cute guy who is really into me, wouldn't it stand to reason that I might start to doubt the reasons to why that is?"

"You made an excellent point, Dawn. But that is why there were Watcher's usually around. It was not unusual that Slayer's would have, what they call, prophetic dreams. I'm sure that after you have one or two nightmarish dreams foretelling future events your logical side would go right out the window. Besides, this is not like a split-personality. It's a lot subtler. It might be easier for you to perhaps imagine this unique relationship like a Jekyll and Hyde dynamic, where like that classic tale where the Hyde personality slowly but surely starts to take more and more personal control away from the Jekyll aspect. From the Slayer's perspective, the _Hyde_, it was all about emotional self-preservation. The Slayer, you see, is about duty and obligation. Concepts like settling down and building a family are foreign and frightening to an Amazon Warrior. But it's not foreign or frightening to the host's that the spirit inhabits, in fact from the time we are little girls many of us are raised with this vision and expectation of our future. Even in our worst possible moments we cling to this fantasy. When the Slayer Spirit enters its host these various daydreams do not disperse, they remain, but the Slayer Aspect suppresses these wants, yet they are never truly gone. They remain. Eventually, if they *do* permit their vessel to look for love then they will be instinctively picking out romances with no longevity or are eventually doomed to failure. Loves that are good for the moment, but have no staying power whatsoever. Doing everything in its influence to redirect their 'hosts' interest away from the party that would get them expelled."

"What about that Slayer who married the Blacksmith-guy. You said that she was a Slayer for 5-years. Wouldn't the 'Hyde' part have taken over full control of her hormones by that time?"

"You forget Buffy; she was nearly tragically poisoned by a Demon. I suspect that the Slayer-Spirit's energies were all focused on healing her then towards the blossoming interest her vessel was having for the local hunk. By the time she had recuperated, Love was already in the air for the two and all it took was the simple physical expression of that love for the Spirit to be delivered its walking paper's."

"But what did your ancestor say about the timeframe when the 'Vessel' of the Spirit loses all governance. Is it a month? A year? Two-years? Five? What?"

"That, I suppose, is dependant to the strength of will of the Chosen One, Buffy. May, as I said, was born to a simpler life. She lacked the education and possible inner strength to put up much of a battle. So her transition to Slayer started to become noticeable to Lord George after a series of months. Other Girls' of that time and earlier were probably just the same."

"Did your Great, great so-on ever find a way in his research to stop it?"

"Sadly, no. Over time the Slayer's suppression begins to consume all, just as it did with May and the rest, and the Host starts to no longer consider any thoughts of relationships or building a family. It all becomes about duty and the hunt, with feelings that they are apart from society and social norms. Slowly the Host starts to become devoid of thoughts of a future, but as I said, these dreams of a happy and loving outlook never disappear or fade away. They remain, only they remain more prominent and accessible to the Slayer entity because it is this entity that is suppressing it. As I said before its all part and parcel of the torment the curse provides."

"What a complete Bitch!"

Lady Croft smiled at Dawn's impulsive insult and then released a gentle laugh. "I suspect that how I am wording this explanation to you makes the 'Slayer Spirit' come off sounding cruel and cold, but in truth Dawn I have nothing but the deepest sympathy for it. Its entire existence for thousands of years has been to live vicariously through the actions and the eyes of others. It would be easy to cast her as some kind of villain, but remember she never really had a choice in what happened to her. And just because she may have looked upon certain emotions as a vulnerability it didn't mean that she did not see value in other virtues."

"Sorry?"

"Think about it, Buffy." A sly smile crept over the thick lips of the Ladyship. "Pretend for a moment you are this 'Slayer'. A Warrior Caste. A Hunter of Darkness. A Being that sees their life and other's as mealy transient states of existence and you don't believe in mushy-trashy-romance. What kind of values would you rate highest in a mate, or a partner?"

Without needing half a second to even consider a response, the elder Summer sister answered. "Loyalty and Dependability. Someone I could count on always having my back and never deserting me."

"Exactly. Qualities like loyalty and dependability would be the most prized out of all others as far as a Combatant would be concerned. Not looks. Not intelligence. Not soppy poetry or well intentioned gestures. It would be consistency, fidelity and reliability. Someone that would always be there, steadfast and true. However this was never good, because whenever a Vessel and the Slayer found both their desires and needs met in someone it always led to one of two things. Suicide or ostracise."

"Excuse me?"

Lara pulled the brown leather book across the small expanse until it was in front of her. "There are stories of Slayer's who, in mid-fight with beast's and other creatures that were inferior in strength and skill of Slayer's and ones that could have easily have been defeated, who just stopped and allowed themselves to be slain. My forefather believed that in these rare cases the Spirit that was inhabiting these girls had grown tired and was in so much turmoil and emotional confusion that it decided it better and wiser to start fresh in a new host then continue with the misery of holding back a love that was causing it's Vessel and itself nothing but doubt and sorrow."

Instinctively Buffy's hands rose up to cover her chest; she remembered experiencing one such impulse of pure surrender. It wasn't when she jumped from Glory's Tower, that sacrifice served a purpose, protecting Dawn from that same Fate. No, it was when she went down into the Master's Lair during the end of her first year in Sunnydale. It was the night of the School's Prom and she felt the greatest level of abandonment from everyone she cared for. She just wanted to give up. To let the Master drain her dry and kill her, then have everything be finally over with. The fighting, the slaying, the pressure of the whole fate of the world thing always hinging on her shoulders.

She remembered as she was being led down into the Sewer's by that brat, 'The Anointed One', thinking that no-one cared. After all, it was foretold that the Master would kill her dead and nobody was telling her it couldn't happen. Not Giles, Angel, Willow or even Xan*. Skip that, Xander was the only one who believed she could fight the prophecy. But she didn't really find out about that until later when she was receiving a debriefing from Giles over everything that went down after she had made her mind up to 'meet her maker'.

Maybe if the two of them had chatted before she decided to descend into the Lair the whole Master's ascension thing probably would never have happened. But then again Xan was hardly in the talkative mood with her at the time, earlier in the week he had asked her to be his date to the 'Spring Fling' and had also confessed his hidden feelings for her. It wasn't like she had many offers to go from the other guys, infact Xander was the only one who had even screwed up the courage to even ask her out. Cordelia had back then been her bitchy-rival and had pretty much crushed any 'normal rep' she could have earned with some of the eligible at SD High, leaving her with only the dregs and the desperate, not that Xander fell into any of those categories. She told herself at the time that her rejection of him that it was to help push Xand and Will closer together as a couple, but the truth was that when he had finally poured his heart out to her, she was genuinely afraid. Xander was one of the dearest and sweetest and completely 'Xandery' people she ever had the pleasure and honour of knowing. And she knew that with her luck with guys, sooner or later, her 'Buffiness' would destroy whatever friendship or relationship that could have formed between them and she would be the one who would be the loser out of that deal. It was just easier just to keep her romantic distance and stay purely plutonic.

When he accused her hesitation and her answer of 'no' being related to her 'crush' with Angel, which was kinda a little bit true, it hurt. Angel was mysterious, tormented and more part of her 'world' then Xander ever could be. And no-lying, that appealed to her 'Romeo-&-Juliet' fantasy world. But when Xander got up from the bench and turned his back on her, she felt as though she had just ripped off her own right-arm. And it was *THAT* emptiness, *THAT* loss and *THAT* despair she took down with her later that night to the Master's Lair.

WAIT … hang on … Unnoticed by everyone else in the room, the Slayer's eyes widened and she released a little unheard gasp. The words Lara had said began replaying back over in her mind like a broken record.

'_in these rare cases the Spirit … inhabiting these girls had grown tired and was in turmoil and pain that it decided … to start fresh in a new host then continue with the misery of holding back a love that was causing it nothing but confusion and sorrow … Their 'true-love' could be standing right in front of them … but the Slayer part of them wouldn't let them know it …. There could be someone who she would consider the perfect man, her perfect match, right beside her … But all she would have is, at best, this camaraderie for them.'_

Buffy stepped back from the table and the two seated females, her head pounding like never before. A dull and solid thud that refused to be denied by its owner anymore as more memories, now as clear as crystal started to wedge itself into her minds-eye through the blunted pain. How close had the two of them gotten to the other over the years? Her and Xander? In her memory she could instantly think of a dozen experiences where the two of them were literally caught in what seemed like some invisible bind where their eyes were locked desperately and hungrily with the other with their lips already parting in anticipation for what might come. But the spell, the beautiful and instant enchantment that captured them both would always be broken by one of them pulling away at the very last possible moment. That 'one' was always her. Her, or was it the 'Slayer' part of her?

Her eyes closed to slits as small weeping tears started to glisten under her eye-lashes; uncertain to whether this was due to the pain racketing between her ears that she was silently enduring or her own sudden realisation. Xander. Always loyal, always supportive, always *there* Xander. If what Lara was saying was the truth, and a part of her, she had to admit, prayed that it wasn't. It meant that the last 10-years of living a life full of danger, pain, disappointment, complaint and loneliness would never have happened if she had just found the courage to have said 'yes' to his Date nine and a half years ago, or had even kissed him just once on impulse all those other times! True, maybe placing Xander as this fictitious 'Soul Mate/Love Interest' for her was a stretch, but it also seemed right here and right now an absolute certainty.

She always used to believe Angel was her one and only, but their relationship always came and went, flickering in intensity like a lit candle in a gentle breeze. But with Xander? With the exception of the last couple of years he was always there for her, through the good times and the bad. Backing her up, trusting her, being a ever reliant support to her when all others weren't. Never asking from her more then she was willing to give. And for him, every relationship he had suffered for it. First Cordelia and then with Anya. She wasn't deaf nor was she blind, she knew that both women didn't like Xand always dropping whatever it was he was doing to come running when she called. Sometime it was something she joyously and perversely exploited with Willow just to watch either female get riled or to see how much she could get Xander to do before he would say 'enough'.

"What about the other thing? 'Ostracise'?"

"Well, Dawn, it was either one thing or another. If the Slayer found that it was unable to direct its Host to kill themselves, then they would just as easily take the alternative and separate themselves from the 'distraction'. Either dismissing themselves or the other person's participation in their life."

"Did that ever actually work?"

Lara fastened the clasps on the ancient leather volume. "Hard to say really. My Forebear believed that inadvertent suicide by the Slayer was always the more preferable and quicker choice. After all, even if you are told to ignore the 'elephant' in the room it's still going to be there, isn't it? For the Slayer to take the stance of willingly choosing this process over their own death would go a long way towards demonstrating how much this person sub-consciously meant to them."

Buffy raked her fingers through her hair, wishing to god that the two would just stop talking. Every sentence was like an ice dagger burying itself deep into her brain. More memories flooded though of her decision after the Master's Layer and Angelus to give Xander his marching orders. To stop him from actively participating in the 'Scooby Adventures'. She justified this by stating that Xander was a normal person, unlike Willow and Giles who could call on magic. But wasn't Oz also just a 'normal person', with the exception of 3-nights out of the month and during those nights he spent them in a cage. Yet she never ordered the same restrictions upon the Lycanthrope?

"There were even one or two instances of murder."

This sentence temporarily broke the spell the elder blonde was experiencing. "What do you mean murder?"

"Well, as I pointed out earlier in our conversation, if the Slayer establishes a strong enough bond with their vessel and they dictate that they do not wish to go anywhere anytime soon. And if they genuinely perceive a person a threat to breaking the curse and getting them cast out into another vessel. Then it stands to reason that they would do anything to ensure that this did not happen. Even going so far as killing the person they believe could break the spell before that love could be confessed and enacted upon. This of course is all supposition, but my ancestor retold of two trails by the Watcher Council on Slayer's, that were eventually put to death, who had intentionally killed a human. A human who was not a victim of circumstance or accident, a person who the Chosen One knew very well and specifically sought out. In each case the victim was age-appropriate to the Chosen One herself and also male. During the Trail's the Vessel's stated that they did not know what had come over them. That they were unable to stop their actions until the deed was done."

Buffy's gut swayed and her voice trembled. "Did these guy's die from … from being strangled?"

"Actually, yes. On both counts the victims were strangled by the bare hands of the Chosen One as she straddled his chest."

Suddenly the throbbing headache that had been beseeching her consciousness for the past fifteen minutes disappeared. Buffy would have laughed in relief if she wasn't already caught in a torrent of her own past. She remembered with clarity that Angel had saved Xander from that very same fate, by Faith. But Faith wasn't in-love with Xander, was she? Besides they had sex and she was still a Slayer. Shouldn't the spirit have gone if that was the case?

Dawn croaked out a question, one that was obviously sharing Buffy's own line of thought about the former Black-Sheep-Slayer and their Xander. "Can a Vessel have sex with their 'true love' and nothing happen?"

"Of course."

"But you said before that Chosen Ones, once they expressed their love for their *"

Lara interrupted the now flustered youth calmly. "Dawn. Sex is Sex. I have had my fair share of sexual-partner's, but I have never had to be in love with them to enjoy the experience. Sex is purely physical enjoyment, but it is fleeting and it is transient. Sex when you are truly in love with someone is deeper and more profound. It's not a case of fun and games, when you are in-love you a truly sharing your all with the other person. A Chosen One could have sex with an individual and then fall in love with that person after, just as we all can. But if that did happen, the sex-first pre –emotion then the Slayer Spirit would take the threat of that 'Lover' far more seriously."

"I see." Dawn's eyes averted to the table, her voice and questions once so full of excitement now seemed tired and defeated.

Lara looked at the young beauty at her side, her face full of compassion to Dawn's sombre expression. "Look it's been a long night. Why don't I have Henry organise a room and some night garments and we all call it an evening, hmm?"

Without waiting for her younger sister to reply, Buffy spoke up. "Yeah, that would be great. I think we could all use some rest."

Within moments of Lara buzzing for his presence, her Man-Servant appeared indicating he had already taken the initiative towards preparing a room for both the Manor's visitors. As Buffy was about to leave the Library with the middle-aged man and her sister she turned back to address Lady Croft. "You seem to know quite a bit about Slayer's don't you?"

Lara lifted the tomb from the large dining room table. "I wouldn't say that I'm an expert, but I have tried to immerse myself in the subject given that my next chosen adventure will require a very intimate knowledge on the subject."

Buffy stepped forward, casually looking over her shoulder to ensure that Dawn was a distance away before she posed this next question. "Is it possible for Vampire Slayer's to fall in-love with other people, or do you think it will always be just the one person?"

Lara pushed the ancient book back into its place upon the shelf and considered her words a moment before she spoke aloud. "The moment a Chosen One is called she is in a symbiotic relationship with the Spirit. But any love discovered must meet both parties' desires for the curse to be broken, whether that love or desire is something that will evolve with the passing of time, I cannot say. I suspect if we were going to go all 'romantic' on this notion then the answer would be no. One Vampire Slayer – One True Love."

"But is it possible for, I don't know, if you had like one, two, three, seven thousand Vampire Slayer's they could all maybe have the hots for the same guy?"

Lara laughed at the implication. "Yes, I suppose so. Remember, all Vampire Slayers met the same pre-requisite requirements at the time when they were 'called'. This means that they were all identically vulnerable to the same degree in specific areas. Area's that mirrored the First Slayer at the time of it's first death. This means that at the core of their heart's they all probably sought or desired the same type of affection. Not every man possesses a 'spiritual-twin'. So it would not be inconceivable that what one generational Slayer found attractive another wouldn't find equally desirable. True, they may all have different manners or outlooks, their personas may be in complete contrast. One Slayer could be refined, another could be brash, and another might even be vulgar. But deep down in their heart's, in their soul they all share the same fragile spirit seeking to be loved by the right kind of man. Hundred's of years ago such girls would have placed a preference towards a male who could probably keep up with them physically on top of the other things. Now, as you pointed out earlier, devotion would probably be at the top of its list. So, yes. If there were seven thousand active Vampire Slayer's they would all most likely share the same compatible desires and might even find these desires met in a single individual."

Buff turned to leave but before she left the Ladyship she posed one last and all important question, one excusing itself of any pretence or charade, after all it was very clear to the elder Summer's that Lara knew she was indeed a Vampire Slayer. "If there was a Chosen One who was, I don't know the oldest one in existence, if she found her 'True Love' again and given the time that she and the Spirit had shared in the same body, would she be able to break the curse?"

Lara walked over to the window and looked up to the Moon that she and Buffy had both stared at earlier that night when they were out in the balcony garden. With a voice that was almost a whisper she replied. "I … I don't know. If we support the one slayer, one love hypothesis I suspect anything is possible. But time changes people, Buffy. The feelings of the Chosen One might still drive a strong heart, but what of their intended? If a Chosen One was unwilling to enact on her impulses and instead allowed whatever passionate emotions that exist to cool, would she be surprised if her 'True Love' has moved on from their earlier infatuation and possibly found someone else, someone … better for them in the long run?"

Creases left Buffy's face, she never considered that possibility. She never thought that the declaration of love could be deemed selfish. Choosing not to say another word, as she already had so much now on her mind, the Slayer left the Library. Walking double time she was able to catch up with Dawn without her even noticing that she had been absent.

When Henry returned he found Lara with her feet outstretched upon the polished oak table, flicking through the recent months issue of 'Survivalist'.

"You really enjoyed that, didn't you?" The Man-Servant said sitting in a chair just adjacent to her own. "Playing dumb to who they both really were and then offering that spiel."

Raising her magazine slightly to conceal a sly smile that was forming on her perfect face, the Ladyship answered with an air of innocence in her tone. "I don't know what you mean?"

"Lara, cat's toy with their pray. People are far more civilised, at least I thought you were prior to tonight. What was all that rubbish about?"

"You were eavesdropping? Henry, I thought better of you!"

"Of coarse I was eavesdropping. You've got speaker's in every bleeding room, do you really think I wouldn't want to listen in? Quite a show you put on too I might add, had myself and Bryce very entertained."

Lara answered with an air of sarcasm. "So happy to please you both with my little performance." Drawing her magazine up higher to conceal the amusement in her eyes.

Frustrated, Henry removed himself from his chair and approached a large ancient looking world globe in the corner of the room. Rotating the top half back and revealing a portable drinks cabinet within. He withdrew a crystal glass and began to pour neat two finger's worth of whiskey. This little enterprise did not go unnoticed by her Ladyship who decided to toy with her staffer once more. "While your up, could you mix me a Bloody Mary. After tonight's festivities I could truly use a stiff one."

A firm thud of a lone glass was placed upon the ledge of the window sill. Lara tried to stifle a giggle from rising in her throat as she imaged the expression of both anger, disappointment and disgust upon her most trusted aide without turning around to betray herself and her 'game-playing'.

"I will *bloody* not. Not while you are in your present condition. I will serve you Tomato Juice, plain. But that is all. Seriously Lara, Dr Pascoe was very specific on what you can and can't do. And one of the 'Can't Do's is drinking alcohol, at least for the next seven months."

Lara Croft couldn't control herself any longer and burst out in a hearty laugh. "Your going to make a wonderful mother one day, Henry."

Realising he had been the butt of a joke, the dutiful butler surrender a chuckle at his own expense. "Well, I believe one of us should be, don't you?"

Lara protectively lowered her left hand down to her stomach and then began to massage it fondly. "Oh, I promise you, Henry, I will be the best mother this planet has ever known, just wait and see. And besides, Pascoe didn't say I couldn't drink, just that it was not recommended and if I did to limit the consumption."

"Still I am not going to stand by and place the next generation of Croft's in danger of any potential birthing difficulties all because you feel a trifle 'dehydrated'. If Master Harris found out I could have stopped you and there were complications down the line, well I dread to think what nasty things he would do to me."

"Alex isn't like that and you know it. He's a puppy dog."

"Puppy Dog my left eye. He's down right scary when he wants to be. Last year with that Ghana Adventure he caused poor Bryce to literally change his shorts."

"That was just an act. Come on, Henry ii was the two of them against seven armed-to-the-teeth neo-Nazi's with only a pocket knife for defence. He had to get all dark and dangerous or it would have been game over for him and Brycie. It was a performance, pure and simple."

"Well then it was one certainly deserving of an Oscar, Bryce says he still has nightmares about that experience and he keeps muttering 'He likes the quiet'. What does that even mean anyway? Every time I ask him he just goes as white as a sheet."

Lara smiled a small smile before answering. "It's just a line in a speech Alex uses to unnerve people. He employed it once when he was younger on a sociopathic zombie and it proved very effective. And if it can give the 'walking dead' the willies then imagine what it can do to those of us who have their hearts still beating?"

"All I am saying is that Master Harris has proven to be a man not to be underestimated that is all. And when it comes to looking after people who are important to him, Bryce included, he has no problems exceeding those expectations and going to very 'Dark' places. Now will you mind telling me why you have not, as yet, introduced yourself properly to these young ladies?"

Lara took a sip of her prepared Tomato Juice and pulled a face. "It's still warm."

"Which means it will digest well, now stop evading the question. Why this ridiculous charade?"

"I wanted to get to know them as people first. I didn't want to force myself upon them by stating that _'I am Mrs Harris, it's a pleasure too meet you'_. I also wished to take their measure without the biased opinion of Xander swaying my judgement."

"And your conclusions?"

"Dawn is exactly as Alex described. Clever, creative, proper and someone who is repeatedly struggling to escape her elder sister's shadow. He did however leave out one important thing."

"And that is?"

"Her adolescent crush of him has progressed to a full-on infatuation."

Henry took a sip of his whiskey as he processed this drama and looking decidedly uncomfortable with what he just heard. "Are you certain of this?"

"Oh yes. I laid out the breadcrumbs and she followed the trail whole heartedly. Not that I truly needed too. When Alex and I uncovered that scam artist in Botswana and he jumped in front of me in order to shield me by being cleaved in two, she didn't know it, but I was there when she came storming into the hospital the following day all but screeching out his name to the first Nurse that crossed his path. She was in near hysterics."

"Ahem, from your own retelling you yourself weren't much different. Infact if I remember correctly you actually waved your Beretta's in the Head of Surgery's face. It took the promise of a brand new Annex to the Hospital for him to drop the charges."

"Excuse me, but I had Alex bleeding all over me as well as the floor. He was unconscious and probably only minutes away from dying if he wasn't immediately stabilised. I had just finished driving twenty minutes with the man I love passing in and out of lucidity, offering him reassurances that he would pull through. When I make a promise, Henry, I keep it. And no second-rate surgeon is going to make me a liar. If Alex was going to have to go into Theatre then by God I was going to make sure that he was going to be operated on by the best that Hospital had available, end of story. And if he got testy because I put a barrel to his forehead and threatened to squeeze the trigger unless he got off his wrinkled ass and save my man, then who of the two of us is the real girl?"

"I'm just stating that your reactions, though more extreme, were on par with her own."

"Exactly, that's how I know what she feels for him. When Alex was being operated, it was the worst eight hours of my life. I couldn't stand it. I ended up leaving and hunting down that 'Animal' who tried to kill him *"

"* Actually Lara, that 'Animal' was trying to kill you. Master Harris jumped in front of you, remember?"

Lara looked away, haunted by her own memory. "I found him, I never came closer to beating a man to death then I did right then. I dragged him to the nearest Police Outpost, returned to the Hospital and called the Council letting them know what had happened to Alex. Not in a million years did I actually expect them to send anyone."

"Mistress Dawn's arrival was a surprise then?"

"Very much so. I was coming out of the cafeteria after reloading on Java when she barrelled through the doors. The moment she said Alex's nickname, I froze. They gestured her to his room and I followed, when I reached the door and peered in I saw she was sitting in the chair I left, holding tightly the hand I had let go five minutes earlier and she was crying like a baby. I watched from a distance for over four hours, waiting for her to pause for a moment so I could walk in and introduce myself. On the fifth hour I decided that I should just leave and catch up with him when he was discharged knowing well that at the moment he was in as good a hands as anyone. You don't cry non-stop for five hours like that Henry, without there being more then just 'friendship' or 'sisterly-love'."

"I see, that could make things awkward."

"No, I don't think so. Buffy, however is far more intriguing."

"Ah yes, I got the impression that she doesn't think that much of you."

"No, your right. She doesn't trust me, she knows that I know who she is and she doesn't like that. But she doesn't, as yet, know if I am friend or foe. In a lot of ways she is a very disagreeable person. But I truly believe despite her manners she would lay down her life for anyone she cared about without hesitation. So in my book that earns her some respect. But just like her sister, she also has deep feelings for my man."

Henry looked up astonished from his drink. "BOTH? Are you kidding me?"

"I wouldn't have believed it either, but at dinner as I was chatting to Dawn about any beau's who might have her eye and we did some back and forth 'girl-talk', I told her about a 'mysterious' man-friend I have in Africa. When I reference Alex, Buffy became very distant and eventually had to excuse herself. I spoke to her outside and I allowed the topic to stray towards her this friend of her's in Africa. Words can lie, Henry, expressions don't. She looked heartbroken and tormented at merely referencing his name. And when I was educating them both on the 'True Love' Clause of the Slayer Curse, she looked decidedly distracted. Mulling over and hanging off nearly every word I spoke. Especially the part about how the Slayer Spirit had a tendency of pushing Vessel's into incompatible romances and forcing their 'True Loves' to be perceived as mere-friends."

"Amazing. So when will you tell them the truth? About you being the bride of their own heart's intended as well as the future mother of his brood?"

Lara picked up her tomato juice once more and stared longingly into the glass in her hand. "Technically we're not officially married yet, so I can't go introducing myself as Lady Harris yet now can I? And as for the other thing if I haven't told the father yet it seems unfair to tell my rivals first don't you agree?"

"Rivals?"

"Yes. Right now I am more then prepared to set Xander free of my love if he wishes it. It would break my heart, but I would much rather have this issue hashed out now then run the risk of losing him to one of these vixen's later on. I will still keep and raise this child and he will still be a father, just not a 'Dad'."

"So that's the plan is it? Place the three of you on display and offer Master Harris the chance to take his pick, whilst at the same time keeping something as important as impending fatherhood from him? I never thought you would be that cruel, Lara."

"Believe me, Henry, this doesn't thrill me either. I hate it. But the Queen herself has instructed me to take this action. She is sick and tired of her aristocrats getting divorces and she wasn't too thrilled when I informed her that I was officially unwed and in the family-way either, to an American 'Adventurer' no less. She does not want another scandal to touch the House of Windsor, she has enough headaches keeping the gossip rags under control will respects to Will, Henry and Bea. And she has instructed me to take whatever extremes I have to ensure this union will stick."

Henry finished off his glass in a smooth action and stood up, he could never understand women. Men were far simpler. If you had a problem with another guy you either said your piece or you just punched them. He would die protecting his 'England' and it's Monarch. But this request by the 'The Old Girl' herself was out of the ordinary and it both puzzled and distressed him. He knew that the British Tabloids loved a scandal, but surely this wouldn't rate as high as the many other Royal 'Mistakes' in the past couple of years, could it? Unless there was something the Queen knew about Master Harris that he and his own Mistress didn't know?


	4. Chapter 4

"Alright, Butler-Guy has now turned the corner and left the corridor. It looks like we're free and clear." Dawn slowly and gently closed the door from the slither of visual access her peeping could allow. But stating that she thought both she and her sister were _'free and clear'_ seemed right now to be a perilous and almost redundant statement as any she could make, on forethought they were probably both as far from it as humanly possible.

Buffy removed herself from all fours after spying under the twin beds, blowing strands of her blonde hair off her forehead as she did so. "Okay, from a lay-woman's point of view I don't see any cameras or microphones around the place. But then again given how loaded our host is I don't think she is shy a nickel to spend on the best and least obvious surveillance gear imaginable. So we better just assume that she has us wired for sound anyway."

Buffy then paced determinedly over to the window. She unfastened the catch to the windows and drew back the curtain further, spying out into the night trying to judge the jump, or be it fall, to the garden terrace below. "We're not locked in; we can strike that up as a bonus." Without looking back over her shoulder to properly engage her sister, Buffy strained her eyes. Using her enhanced Slayer-Sight to help peer out into the darkness in a vain hope of identifying the property layout of the vast Croft Estate is that tent made out of concrete?

After several seconds, she surrendered. There was no way she could get her bearings. The road that they came in on was a private one and it bent and twisted all the way to the front door of the Manor. It was impossible for her to make a geographical judgement of where they were precisely to the nearest public road. Even if they did safely leave the room without being detected, without any intimate knowledge of the property's landmarks they could end up walking for hours in the wrong direction before morning broke and then they would be easily discovered.

"I think we should stay put, nothing would be gained for either of us wandering around blindly without so much as a torch, except give off the whole _'we don't trust you'_ vibe when we are eventually found missing. So after tonight's discoveries I guess we can go one of two ways."

"And that is?" Dawn said joining her sister over by the window and looking down into the inky night that seemed to perfectly camouflage the distance to the ground below.

"Well, on the plus side, they didn't put us in a secure room which tells me they either don't expect us to make an early and impromptu departure, aka 'escape', or they *really* were not expecting us to stay over for the night."

Dawn numbly nodded her head in agreement as her sister continued, bowing to the elder's unique experience to being placed in these situations.

Buffy continued, her tone becoming harder and more akin to the 'take-charge' Buffy that Dawn always hated hearing her sister evolve into during times of danger. "But just because they have been given the benefit of the doubt re: accomidation/imprisionment doesn't mean we can say to ourselves that this whole thing tonight wasn't some kind of ruse. And that her Ladyship bringing up _'Watchers and Slayers'_ wasn't one Hell of a co-inky-dink. I've played this role so many times that I've practically got my 'Lines' fully memorised verbatim. Croft knows exactly who we are and that her inviting the pair of us out to her Estate, which I might add is dozen's of miles from the nearest town and neighbour, is riper then one-week old fish."

Dawn vigorously shock her head in the negative to the diabolical conclusion being reached by her sister. "I can't believe she's evil, Buffy. She's my absolute hero, I've read nearly every adventure she has ever had published ten-times over."

"People can sometimes be a disappointment when met in real life Dawn. I'm not saying she hasn't done some amazing things but that doesn't automatically make her a good guy."

Dawn leaned over and pulled closed the window, more as a means keeping out the chilly countryside night-time air then to offer any impression of not wishing to escape. "Look I get that her inviting us and then dropping the _'Slayer/Amazon'_ Bombshell was pretty big in the suspicious-meter. And I know that the timing of her asking me to interview as an 'apprentice' on the exact same day you flew back into England, after spending a three-year absence makes things look, well, sinister. But does all that make her a bad guy?"

Buffy's brow scrunch in thought, true thus far there wasn't much evidence to support the whole 'Big Bad' Scenario aside from the circumstantial kind. But her gut was telling her that this self-named _'Tomb Raider'_ was concealing something from the pair of them, something big. And of coarse Lara had automatically gotten on her bad-side the moment she made Dawn into a patsy in order to get her involved. And even though her younger sister hadn't said anything yet it was clear to Buffy that deep inside that Dawn's heart had been broken at this realisation and what was now on show was her _'this-happens-so-often-to-me-that-I've-become-used-to-it'_ face.

This was Dawn's moment to shine and be acknowledged by a person she admired and she wanted her big sister to share in the moment. Buffy's fists clenched tightly, if she wasn't already wanting to do a pound-down on that perfect face of the Ladyship for trying to play her for a fool, then she sure as Hell wanted to beat her to a pulp for making her sister now doubt that the only true value she would ever have in this world would be as nothing more then 'Buffy-Bait'. Both of them had thought that they had left that type of clichéd crap back at the Hellmouth, but apparently that was just wishful thinking on both their parts.

With as much restraint as possible, Buffy kept her reply non-committal and casual. Doing her best to conceal a torrent of protective-sisterly anger. "Alright, no judgements at this time. We'll just mark her allegiances as an _'Unknown'_, alright? But it's clear to me that she has some kind of agenda playing out here, Dawn. You need to consider that there is more going on then she is letting us privy too, okay?"

Buffy then wrapped her arm around her sister and offered the younger a gentle embrace of comfort before she spoke again. "She may do good things, but that doesn't mean she isn't willing to do bad stuff on the way to achieving it. Y'know what they say, 'Road to Hell' an' all that. If I learned anything with my brief stint with Maggie Walsh and the Initiative it's this - goals and objectives might be noble ones but that doesn't mean that the methods used are righteous. I thought Walsh walked on water and that the Initiative was the answer to me finally having a normal life, of sorts. But we both know how that all worked out, don't we? If she turns out to being someone who believes _'the end justifies the means'_ then I'll need to take her down hard, and I can't have you getting in my way and telling me not too just because you're the President of her Fan Club. If that is what I have to do, then that is what I *will* have to do and you are going to have to accept that. Are we clear on this Dawn?"

From Dawn's sullen expression it was obvious that she understood what her sister was saying and it broke Buffy's heart to see those features emerge on her younger sister's face. "Look, Dawn, I'll cut her as much slack as possible, I promise. If she gives me the opportunity to give her a 'way-out' without any disaster being the result, I'll do it. But if this is something that affects the other Slayer's and the Council, Giles, you, everybody I hold dear, then the kid-gloves will be coming off and that bitch will have to be buried."

Dawn didn't respond to the declaration. Instead with a timid voice she asked a question that was already playing heavily in the back of the Slayer's own thoughts and prompted them to step into the forefront. "What about all the other stuff she said?"

"What stuff?"

For the briefest of moments Dawn pulled another face that instantly reminded Buffy of their mother when she was in a scolding-are-you-serious mood. "Come on, Buffy. About the Slayer's Spirit's origin, the Curse and the influence the spirit has on its Host. You have to admit, there was a lot of stuff there that rang kinda true to what we already knew and suspected. Probably not to the Origin, but the whole group of Holy Men cursing a young girl to carry on the 'fight' from one body to the next? That we already knew when you did your time-jumpy thing. And as to the whole 'Spirit' guiding choices, decisions and behaviour? We've seen you go from pleasant upbeat Buffy to PMS 'My Way or the Highway' Buffy so many times over the years that I've lost count."

Buffy drew in what Dawn was saying and looked down to her feet with an intense stare. It was true, for a majority of what Lara was saying moments earlier she could easily substantiate from her own personal experience. But part of her didn't wish to accept it all, because if she was to accept all of what Lara had told the pair then it also meant that she may have most likely thrown away the only true chance she had to be free of the Slayer-Curse, to be a normal woman, to be truly loved and be extraordinarily happy. She just prayed that Dawn didn't *

"* And what about that loop-hole she was taking about? Y'know the whole 'true-love' thing being able to break the curse of the Slayer? Is that even true? When Lara mentioned it, your face kinda lost all expression for a bit, then your ears pricked up and … and … you got this really far away look in your eye."

This time it was Buffy's turn to look sullen and nod her head to her sister's words.

Dawn looked at her sister and then out the window to the moon above with regret, believing that she was maybe too confrontational on what must be a very delicate subject for her elder. She waited a few moments and readdressed the topic in a softer tone. "Lara said that a curse can't be a curse if the recipient, in this case the Slayer Spirit, wasn't experiencing some torment. That this meant that Fate would have somehow found a way to place your 'True Love' at your side. But … but you fell in love with and had sex with Angel and nothing happened."

A mummer of an answer was offered. "Nothing good."

Dawn chose not to counter the almost hushed reply of her sister, even though her own head was gently and involuntarily bobbing in agreement to what was just spoken. Seeing her ever proactive sister like this stirred something maternal in her, she continued offering a soothing tone to her voice. "Maybe Lara was wrong about there being a curse?"

"No. For some strange reason, in the pit of my stomach I really don't think so. I think she might be on-the-money." Buffy looked up and met the vision of the moon that her sister had been looking at seconds before; gaining strength in this momentary bond the two were sharing. "When she was going on about her forefather's Journal my Slayer Sense was buzzing like it's never done before. It usually only does that when there is mondo-supernatural-danger nearby. What Lara was telling us had it scared to death. I was on the verge of nearly blacking out from the pain it was so bad."

Dawn tore her eyes off their lunar neighbour and turned to face her sister. "But it might have only been warning you because we were being handed a plate full of BS."

"No. The Slayer Sense started throbbing when you were talking about the origins of that piece of pottery of hers. We hadn't even touched on her Ancestor's Journal yet. That Plate and its history got it on edge and the headache just got worse and worse until we got near the end of the discussion."

"Why? What happened at the end?"

"I started putting the pieces of everything Croft was saying together in my head and began comparing it with my own personal memories. I guess that once the Spirit realised that I was in _'problem-solving'_ Buffy-mode and had reached my conclusion, it gave up."

"Then … then why didn't you stop being a Slayer after you slept with Angel. He was your Soul-Mate, wasn't he? That's what you always said."

Given the teenage-crush Buffy knew Dawn had supported when she was younger for Xander, and of the drama that had been centred around them both over the last couple of days since she arrived back in England on barer of that name, the elder sister did not feel comfortable voicing her conclusions, opting instead to remain silent. Continuing to look longingly up at the moon instead. The same moon she thought that particular male in-question was probably looking up at right now as well.

"Okay. Well, maybe … maybe it was because Angel was a Vampire, or perhaps it was because he was cursed too? What if the two curses cancelled each others out?"

Buffy sighed a defeated sigh. "Then Angel would never have become Angelus again, would he. And we both know that's exactly what happened. Angel got a _'A Moment of Complete Happiness'_ courteously of yours truly and then went bad for four months. Putting me through guilt ridden hell because I couldn't screw up the courage to face him. Not until the very end at least when it all came down to the wire of either me killing and sending him to Hell or welcoming said-Hell to dear old planet Earth. Funny, when most girls lose their virginity it's something they remember or cherish, for me it's something I would have preferred to forget or not even have had happened."

"What if *"

Buffy cut off her sister's desperate analysing. As much as she was grateful for the whole 'grasping at straw reasoning' Dawn was pursing on her behalf there was an argument which was spoken earlier that her younger sister was not considering. "* And maybe I got it all wrong? Croft did say that her Ancestor believed that the Spirit would intentionally steer it's vessel to substitutes if it found the connection with its 'Puppet' a pleasing one. Maybe that's what happened here with me? Maybe my Mr Right came into line of sight and the Slayer Spirit pointed my hyped-up and angsty teenage hormones to Mr Left instead? Giving whoever my Prince Charming was the chance to keep walking on by and date other girls and eventually … move on from love-lost Buffy."

Dawn reached out her hand and clamped it over Buffy's. "Look on the bright side, if that's really what happened then at least he was able to get away. Remember? Lara also said that there was documented evidence which suggested that in some cases the Slayer Spirit would temporarily take full control over its Host and then kill the 'Love'-obstacle. Removing, from its point of view, the threat of having itself expelled into a new and unknown body. And let's face some hard realities Buffy, you have on occasion mentally-phased out from reality from time to time and taken a backseat to your Slayer-self. And if you do things like that without much prompting, then I think it would be fair to say that whoever your 'True-Love' would have been they would have been fair game to a midnight Buffy-visit followed by a moonlight strangulation. It would have to take someone pretty strong willed to force a persona as powerful and as old as the First Slayer back and still keep control if she had it's own mind set on something."

"And you're saying I don't have that type of self-control?"

"Not all the times, no."

Buffy folded her arms in front of her and arched her eyebrow in a curious and challenging gesture to her sister's statement. "Are you saying I have less will power then that Slayer from the middle-ages who got all dovey with her Blacksmith boyfriend?"

Dawn matched the folded arms posture and replied in an almost Giles-ish manner and tone. "THAT Slayer, Lara said, had also been weaken by demon venom and had probably been resting in bed with a fever for a month. The Slayer part of her was probably more fixated upon using it's mojo to keep it's Chosen One alive and getting well then to focus on the various amorous emotions taking place between it's Host and some dashing village Smithy. When the fever finally broke it was probably too late for it to do anything, the Vampire Slayer of that time was probably already head over heels in love. The physical consummation was almost certainly just a matter of course. I mean look at Faith, she's not exactly a debutant or weak-willed. Like you, she doesn't like giving up power to anyone. There is resilience and determination to her character, she doesn't let anyone tell her what to do or bully her around and still at the end of the day she nearly choked to death her 'True Love'. If it wasn't for Angel, Xander would have been murdered six years ago."

Buffy didn't know what surprised her more, the fact that Dawn was speaking so casually about Faith trying to end her once teenage crush or how certain her younger sister's voice was towards associating the 'True Love' status of Faith automatically too Xander. "You seem pretty sure of that, about him being her 'fated'. What if Xander was just a victim of circumstances?"

Dawn unfolded her arms and sat on the edge of the nearest bed. "No. I'm almost 99-percent positive that he was. Remember when Willow bought her back from LA with her tail between her legs to help us out with the First?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I kinda cornered her that night as she was preparing her bed in Mom's old room. Telling her not to think all was forgiven just because she said a few _'sorry's_ to everyone. I made it clear that I had my eyes on her and I then told her not to get any closer then two arms lengths from Xander at any one time, day or night. She laughed at that, thought it was funny that I would threaten her before she even had a chance to go and use our bathroom. Said something about how I should 'play it cool and not to be so obvious.' Anyway, she then said that she had her chance with the Xan-Man and there was a snowball's that he would ever give her a second. We started chatting after that, not right away mind you, but I got a chance to know her a bit. Actually, I got to know her real well if I'm honest. It was … uncomfortable at first, but after a while it got easier. I suspect she needed to unload on someone and I was the only one around who would give her the time of day."

"Yeah? But why you of all people?"

"Well, during the day you were always either in the 'war room', aka our Dining Room, looking over old maps of Sunnydale or immersing yourself in literature referencing 'the First'. Either that or hanging out with Spike in the basement. Willow was just as bad, she was either with you and Giles in the WR or spending time with Kennedy. Anya was usually with Andrew. As for Xander? He was always playing go-fer for everybody else as well as trying to balance a Job to keep money coming in to help pay for all the food and cover the bills. So during the day when Faith wasn't wasting time taunting Anya, she and I were hanging out either in her room or in the kitchen. Just chatting about stuff."

"Gee, as role model's go, you don't think you could have picked someone a little less … skanky? I would have much preferred you hangout with Anya then Faith, and you know how I felt about you spending time too much time with her. Did you really think buddying up with the resident _'Black-Sheep'_ was a good idea?"

"Actually, it was. At least I thought so. She didn't do the whole holier-then-thou shtick that I got from you or Giles whenever I asked her a question about things and life. With you it was always – '_Don't do it'_."

"And I firmly stand by that advice. Regardless of the question, '_Don't do it'_ easily applies to all and it would ensure the individual's safety at all times?"

"Buffy, telling a hormone-crazed teenaged girl not to do something is like daring them to go out right away and do it! What was all that a year earlier about you wanting to show me the World? Faith explained the whys and wherefores that you never did and if I am completely honest, some of her stories were really bitchen!"

"Bitchen?"

"Hey, she could really offer you a word-picture, know what I mean?"

"I'm s-o-o-o-o-o-o sorry that my effort's weren't as entertaining for you, but I was dealing with bigger issues at the time then Boy's, Fashion and the latest hot celebrity match-ups. First Evil, bit of a big deal, Dawn!"

"I know that." Dawn's shoulder's slumped. "Look, we didn't just talk about boy's and stuff, we also chatted. Actually, I told you a lie earlier. Faith didn't just need me, I needed her as well. I was feeling invisible, surrounded by Potential's from far away places. All with mondo-interesting lives before they were all called. Each one bragging about how they were going to all be heroes. Like I said before, I didn't have anyone to share this stuff with. And neither did Faith. She came on board halfway through the First Evil thing and people were expecting her to be some kind of secret weapon. We talked. We talked like you and I used too during that Summer when Willow and Giles were in England and Xander was practically living at our place."

"The '_Happy Family'_ days."

"Yeah, I really loved those months when we three were all together and not just because Xander was there playing 'Dad'. Trust me, the thoughts I had during that time would probably have earned me time in a therapist sofa. Some of my dreams back then boarded on incestuous."

Despite herself, Buffy's, face broke out in a warm smile as she remembered how 'right' everything felt for her during those three-months as well. Sure, she still did the slaying. But when she came home at the end of the night, she actually felt like it was 'Home' and not a house full of people.

Xander always had a late night meal warming in the oven. Dawn was in bed resting up for another day Summer-Time Freedom. And Xan was in the Dining Room looking over Blue Print's and Company Cost Figures. Since their Mom passed on, this was as perfect and as blissful of a time as she had ever had on the Hellmouth. And it didn't matter if it was one a.m. or three, Xander was always there to tag off from 'Dawn Patrol' Duty and to stick around for an extra hour to indulge her with his company as she ate his dinner and wound down from the night's patrol. Just kicking back and chatting about ordinary stuff. Then Xander would sneak off to his own place and try and slide in a few hours of solid REM's before he had to get up and face the day on the Construction Site of the new High School.

She remembered thinking back then that she wished this 'family moment' could have lasted forever. Maybe if she had the guts and actually asked Xander out … after all they were both then single, things for her would have been a hell of a lot more different then they were now if she did. There was no denying it; Xander had certainly come into his own while she was 'dead', career-wise. He now had money coming out of his ears. With a job that had serious prospects. And she had to admit that once he has stopped stress-binging because of his impending and doomed nuptials to Anya and started to eat a sensible diet again he slimed down to the same muscular frame he had when she first started College, which was pretty yummy on the eyes. Truth to say, there was no logical reason why she shouldn't have asked him out. But she never did.

"… stuff like French kissing all the way to spotting an inferior quality condom."

Buffy blinked herself back to reality, not aware of how long she had just spaced out. But her sister chatting about French Kissing and Condoms that was enough to rattle herself aware. "Are you kidding me? These were the topic's you discussed? In my house?"

A sneaky smile formed on the younger Summer's sister's face, possibly because she knew she had just caught her sister out in her 'day-dreaming'. "*OUR* House. And yeah those were some of the topics we chatted about. Who better to steer a person away from sin then a repentant sinner? At least with me she knew where I was coming from and that I wasn't trying to be anything more then I was. After awhile it started to be a bit of an event, she held a round-table in the kitchen where all the Potential's would rock up after they had walked out on the latest Power-Point Lecture from Andrew. A lot of girl talk, fun and Q & A."

"The Potential's were supposed to be training to be Slayer's. Andrew's lesson's were *"

"*They were a joke, Buffy. Come on, did you ever actually sit down and listen to any? Or failing that half of just *one* of them?"

"Well, … no. Like I said I had bigger fish to fry."

"Andrew's lectures were pointless, Buffy. They did nothing to really educate and prepare, it just gave him the excuse to play dress-up and live out a 'Teacher/Student' fantasy. Most of them only stayed long enough to find out what the 'subject' of the day was and then they high-tailed it. What Andy knew about Vamps and Demon's he got from Comic's and old horror movies. You wanted them to learn how to be Slayer's, why not have a class or two taught by actual Slayer's? All you did was get them to do callisthenics until they nearly passed out from physical exhaustion. Faith actually got to know them one-on-one. They asked the 'What if's' and she gave them answer's that would save their life, unlike Andrew. Besides, Faith believed that 'all work and no play' would just tense them up when the time came so she kept things as informal as possible. Sure she might have whined to Giles, Spike and the rest of the Gang about playing 'Mother Hen' to a bunch of 'wannabes'. But deep down she was secretly thrilled too bits. Any topic with her was fair game."

"And during these 'Round Tables' you chatted about her trying to kill Xander?"

"Actually, after he lost his eye rescuing Rona there were very few conversations at the Summer's Homestead that *didn't* involve Xander. Her trying to kill him was only the second most popular of her various tales. The one that she told to the point where I could recite it word for word was the one when they ended up making mad monkey love with one another."

Dawn shrugged her shoulder's in a none committal type of way to counter her sister's surprised expression. "Everyone back then was talking about him and Faith-time really wasn't any exception to that rule. I think it was cathartic for everyone. Willow, Giles, Anya, me, even Andrew got onto the act. We talked about some of his history, background. Stories about the early days of the Scooby's and the adventures he shared in. Everything from Preying Mantis lady who had a thing for male virgins to his brainstorm on how to kill the Judge. Everybody offered something. Willow talked about the time he got infected by a Hyena-Spirit all because he had come to the rescue of Jonathon as well as when he became Soldier-Guy and basically helped keep gentile-buffy safe from all the weirdness of Halloween. Then there was the time he went undercover on the swim team and nearly became a mere-man for the effort. Every conceivable story of him was told and retold, and our Potential Audience just drank it all up. To be honest, I don't think anyone, aside from me, really knew how brave and cool he truly was until they actually started to hear themselves talk about him aloud. Dozens of stories turned into hundreds. Serious ones, funny ones. Like when Anya's Troll 'ex' demanded that he chose between Anya or his best friend for hammer-squishing and he refused even after he had the crap beat out of him by the brute. Or the one when Xander fell for that exchange student, Ampata, and she ended up being a life-sucking Zombie and he would not let her drain Willow, even to be with her. Giles had to take a pause a few times and swear at himself after that one was told for being such an idiot for not to have treating him better after.

"Andrew even stayed up all night one time drawing and then the next day presented this whole story board thing where he compared Xander to Hector. Andy even made all the girls sit through 'Troy', stopping and starting the DVD whenever the Hector character showed up in the arc and then giving a five-minute comparison between Xan and Hec to help emphasis the similarities in personalities."

"THEY TOLD ME THEY WERE WATCHING THAT AS AN EDUCATIONAL TOOL ON SWORD FIGHTING!"

"And you believed them? Most likely they were all swooning and imaging Xander wearing Trojan Gear fighting Brad Pitt. Are you seriously telling me that you never wondered why that movie was always being watched over and over again by all the girls or why they kept nudging one another and giggling whenever that Eric Bana guy came onto the screen?"

"I told you, they said it was for their education on sword fighting."

Dawn released an amused laugh at her sister's expense before she continued with her account. "Anyway, the more they learned and heard about Xander the more the Potential's wanted to know. Anya got pretty blue with the details in some of the late night sessions which after a couple of nights became even more popular amongst the Wannabe's then Faith's Kitchen Chats."

Buffy's ire at being lied to by the Potential's four years ago was suddenly forgotten as she shamefully turned herself away from the direction of her younger sister. Dawn couldn't see the depths of regret that were etching itself deep upon her face as her memories were cast back to this terrible time. How distant and divorced from everyone she felt when Xander got hurt. Her sister's account was proof positive of exactly how out of touch she really was with everyone at that time, she had to admit that she really didn't have a clue what was going on at that time with the people in her life all the way to the ones occupying her home.

Her thoughts were so preoccupied with the First and Caleb, except during those painful moments when they strayed towards thinking of Xander and his injury. He was in Hospital for just over a week and not once did she visit him. Sure she was there, hovering just outside of his room pretty much from the moment that visiting hours commenced to when they concluded. But she couldn't bear to face him so she stayed in the periphery, out of sight of his bed. Just watching and listening to other's who had more courage then her sit down at his side and tell him how proud they were and that he was going to pull through this. Spike even bothered to sit down with him a couple of times after the sun went down. Offering Xander playful jibes about _'playing the hero and making him look bad in front of all the frillies'_. To outsider's it was standard Spike, but for people who really knew him you could tell just how impressed he was at Xander's courage that night by the tone and concerned pitch of his voice as he teased him with insults.

Dawn paused for a moment and chewed on her lower lip, debating whether or not she should share what was a very personal conversation and one she had kept secret for close to four years. After several seconds she relented choosing to change the tone to an upbeat subject. "Did you know that she rated Xander as her first ever boyfriend?"

Buffy was drawn back to reality with this question. "What? Who?"

"Faith. She said that she considered Xander her first official boyfriend."

"You're kidding."

The younger nodded and smiled sadly. "Seriously. Most of the guys she slept with were the 'Hi and Bye' type. Xander was the first she ever got the chance to know before the 'deed'. It was pretty twisted-up, for her anyway. She admitted to the Potential group and me that under normal circumstances she would have had her way with him and cast him aside, but she said there was something … different about him. At first she admitted too holding off getting down to fleshy business because she got this powerful vibe that maybe you two had a thing for each other."

"US? Xander and … me?"

"Yeah. She said that she even spoke to you about it one night on Patrol but you instead gave her the '_Green Light'_ to do what she pleased."

"THAT LYING … there was NO green-light. Hell, it if was anything it was amber, bordering on a red. She asked me if Xander and I ever did, y'know, intimate stuff and I told her n-o. That I loved Xander, but that I wasn't *IN LOVE* with Xander. How is that 'a stamp of Buffy approval' to have-at-it?"

"Well in Faith-Logic, even an 'amber' made him fair game. She said that the only reason she didn't try and jump his bones after getting your consent to do so was because of the whole him dating Cordelia thing. She was just settling into a new town with an entrenched tightly knitted group and she didn't want to get on anyone's bad side with the rep that she was someone who slept with everybody's boyfriend, so instead she held off. Of coarse when things went south with the break-up of Cor and him, well … he was on the market again and no longer tied to anyone. She said that by this stage all her girly regions were itching like crazy for some 'Xander Attention'."

"Nice imagery."

Dawn released a small smile at the dryness of her sister's comment before she continued. "It wasn't until the Sisterhood of the Jhe came to town that she decided to bump up her schedule in doing the mattress mumbo with him"

"She even had him on a schedule?"

"Yeah, but it wasn't anything specific. It's not like she had the date circled on her calendar or anything. It had already been three-weeks since he and Willow were caught, tensions in the ranks were still pretty raw on the subject. Even though all they really did was just kiss, Cordelia was making is sound a thousand times worse. So Faith thought to give it two-months then she would take him to orgasim-heavan."

"What was it about the Jhe that made her decide to change the … timeframe?" Buffy was almost dreading the answer, the last thing she wanted to hear about was the sex-life of someone she was only now starting to think squishing feelings for. Even before tonight she was starting to dwell more and more on Xander-thoughts and the last thing she wanted was to have these thoughts tainted.

"Well, everyone was foretelling destruction of the planet and putting together a small suicide squad. She kinda put two and two together and realised quickly that this Hellmouth Caper was a little more intense then all the previous ones she had been involved with. That this one was a legitimate 'do-or-die' kinda thing. Everyone in the group who were in the know, Giles, Angel, even you were saying that they were facing the Apocalypse … again, and that got her all antsy. It was her first one, y'know."

"That was Faith's first Apocalypse-type battle?"

"Yeah, Giles was going doom-and-gloom about how you guys might not all survive the confrontation. And Faith thought she might be the one he had chalked as ending up in a coffin. After all you, Willow, Angel, and Giles, this wasn't exactly your first Rodeo, know what I mean? If anyone had a chance of screwing up and getting themselves killed it would probably be the _'new girl on the block'_. She didn't say anything at the time because she didn't want the group to know how worried she was. But under that mask of confidence and bravado she was freakin' out big-time. So much so that after you guys had been dismissed and were told to rest up or to get your affairs in order before the big night ahead, she decided to go out hunting for stray Jhe to test herself against them."

"You're not serious?"

"Totally. She wanted to find out if she could take them on Slayer to Demon so that she didn't come across in the up-coming battle like a complete liability, whether she ended up dying or not."

"So … what happened?"

"She eventually found one. Found one and was getting her ass totally kicked by it. That was until Xan spotted her in trouble and drove into it with his uncle's car. She was hurt bad, not terribly, but enough to realise that she would not be able to fight these things alone fist-for-fist. It kinda shook her up a bit inside. The Jhe had dislocated her shoulder and Xander helped her put it back in its socket. Whether it was the near death experience, the adrenaline or thoughts that this might be her last night alive but she got this really overwhelming desire to feel skin on skin. She said she tasted her own mortality that night and that she just wanted to feel something worth feeling, instead of the pain and the loneliness. With Xander being there, him saving her life, it was almost too perfect. If later awkwardness ensued she could easily down play it by telling him that she was only 'returning the favour' to saving her life instead of admitting that she was actually wanting to bed him bad. So for twenty minutes, before she had to leave to meet up with the rest of you guys, she said she gave him the ride of his virgin life."

"Hang on, it was Xander's first time and he lasted twenty-minutes?"

"I think she kinda savoured it, took it slow. And she did say that they cuddled and he traced his fingers over her body at the end for 5-minutes or so. If she had a choice she would have stayed in that crappy road-side dive hotel bed for the rest of the night, just snuggling. That's one of the things that really got all to Potential's 'awing' and going googy-eyed, Xander being a 'sensitive-lover'." Again, Dawn chuckled. "But she saw her clock and realised that she had to book down to the School in thirty, so Xander-cuddle-time was cut short. She said she practically pushed him out the door naked."

"Are you serious? Naked?"

"Well probably not 'naked' naked. But she said she had to do it because she couldn't stand the temptation of having him in her room as they were both getting dressed, she said that she might have forgot all about the Hellmouth opening and try for a second round. So out the door he went as she tried to get her head back in the game for slaying Jhe."

"And when she didn't die like she expected?"

"When she didn't die she was predicting the whole smothering thing, either that or maybe they could do a couple of more secret hook-ups before calling it quits. But when he never showed up, or said a word to her or hell, to anyone, that kinda annoyed her a bit."

"Hang on; Faith had sex with Xander because she thought she would not see the sun next morning? Then she gets pissed because he wasn't bragging about 'bagging' her to everyone the next day?"

"Yeah, like I said, pretty twisted. Her bedding Xander was, according to her, more a curious itch that needed scratching, then affection. I think it is for this reason why the Spirit let it slide at the time, there wasn't any true amorous emotions involved on her part. Just quizzical horniness. She added that she thought it was kinda like being involved is some full-circle-of-life deal. She was going to be his 'first' and as far a she was concerned and aware, he was going to be her 'last'. A ying-yang thing that added to the intensity of the experience.

"Anyway … where was I? Oh yeah, anyway when Xander wasn't at her doorstep the next day begging for more Faith-loving, well, it kinda got him noticed. He was the first guy who didn't come back begging for seconds. She tried not to get hung up about it though. She instead started to distract herself more with her 'calling' and destiny of slaying vamps and stuff. Spending days searching out possible vamp nests and demon hives, and taking unnecessary risks to take them out without any support or back-up. She also started partying way harder then she ever did before, making out with one stranger after another. All to get Xander off her mind and wonder why he wasn't sniffing around her like some horny hound dog. But as strategies go it sucked, because it just made her think more and more about him and why he wasn't coming around to see her? She admitted to us, me and the other Potentials, that she was pre-occupied and began to ruminate about everything she had done with Xander since they met. Focusing on what he had said to her, what she had observed of him. After a couple of days of this she found it next to impossible *NOT* to think about him. How supportive, funny, brave, kind, honest and how equally 'damaged' he was to herself. Then she started asking herself if he thought whether she wasn't good enough to see again? Some girls when they don't get 'the call' the next morning would withdraw, she however took it all up a few notches in order to make herself as noticed by him as he did to her. To show him what he was missing out on."

"Yeah, I remember what she was like directly after the Jhe Sisterhood, she was up for anything. She didn't care if she was taking on six or sixty Vamps, her mind was somewhere else entirely."

"That mind was most likely in Xander-land, and trust me it is a beautiful place to visit. But given how close everyone in the Scooby's were she was uncomfortable approaching him, especially given her own sordid guy-history and the circumstances of Xan's break-up with Cordelia. It took about a week after 'the deed' for her to move on to being pro-active. She decided instead of waiting for Xan to come to her that she would make a few allies before she put the serious moves on and that's when she decided to get closer to being friends with you. If she got 'in' with you she thought that maybe you might be able to put in a good word for her with Xander and might even be able to take point if it ruffled any feather's with our resident Glinda-in-training. She already knew that Will didn't like her much, and Will carried the respect of Giles and *hell-o', Oz would always side with his girlfriend. Cordelia probably wouldn't have given a damn. So your opinion was pretty central of all accepting her and Xan being a possible two-some."

Buffy's mind involuntarily flashed back to the evening she and Faith had their 'Bad Girls' night out and the brunette ended up accidentally staking the Deputy Mayor. She also remembered how strung out and manic Faith had been over the last couple of days of their impromptu 'friendship'. Like she was a person on a mixture of on a caffeine-high and suffering sleep deprivation. She innocently thought at the time that it was because of the introduction of their new 'stiff-shirt' Watcher, Wes, but after what Dawn had just said what if it was something … more. What if instead of seeing a 'party girl' she was instead seeing someone caught in the frenzied turbulence and fear of an unrequited love? What Dawn was saying certainly went a long way in explaining why out of the blue Faith decided to make her _'best-buds-forever'_. After all, if it wasn't for the Slaying and the Destiny thing then the two really didn't have much in common.

The blonde Slayer raked her finger's through her hair as her mind then flashed to further the images of the pair dancing up a storm at a Biker Bar and how eager Faith was to have every guy's eye in that room roam over her body lustfully. Everything in her recall of their time together now seemed to her so forced. From Faith's fake laughs, fake smiles all the way to the fake pouts that were being offered to the various leering patrons. Dawn's claims put into perspective the possible cause for this outlandish behaviour. It's amazing what several years of maturity and hindsight can reveal. Maybe if Faith felt Xander was ignoring her after their 'special-time' with one another that might explain why she sought anonymous affirmation, as crass as the comments were, from disgusting lowlifes and strangers. It was all just a schism to help reaffirm her own insecurities regarding her 'appeal' to others. The blonde had to admit that Faith wasn't alone in this type of reassurance either. She remembered when she first slept with Angel and then Parker, one of the first sentences out of her mouth the very next day was to ask them whether or not they were satisfied by her efforts the night before. Whether they had thought she was 'good' as a sexual partner. If she herself experienced this level of insecurity, could Faith be any different? After all, didn't Lara's ancestor say that *ALL* Slayer's called had fitted the same personality-type. Sure, maybe her approaches to situations and dress sense were different to the brunette, but at the core, weren't they all equally the same type of person?

Inwardly, Buffy groaned as she now thought back even earlier in that fateful day of the Deputy's death. Faith had come to 'rescue her' from the classroom and steal her away from her Biology Test. Her memory however, though hazy, recalled one thing clearly of that morning's invitation. After the brunette Slayer made herself known she then breathed heavily on the window that separated them. She then etched a _heart_ and pointed her finger directly at it, but when she looked up from what she had drawn she wasn't looking at her with a sensual and playful smile on her lips. Who she was looking at was the male sitting directly behind her. For years she thought that had been a personal message to her about staking some vamp hearts. But what if that 'communiqué' had a double meaning and it wasn't intended as she had long believed. What if that message and the 'heart' was being directed to … Xander? Faith had been spending more and more time hanging around the High School then usual even though she didn't attend classes. Could it be possible that Faith was stalking her bestest best male friend?

Buffy shook these thoughts out of her head; it still didn't change what had happened or what Faith had tried to do when she teamed-up with the Mayor.

As though reading her mind, Dawn proceeded with her story. "After the strangulation incident, Faith said she challenged Xander on his whole avoidance of her thing. Kinda pathetic really, she was in this whole denial-phase and she was trying to shift the blame onto his shoulder's, like 'I wouldn't have done that if you had called me the next day'-deal. Nervously, which is understandable given that she tried to snuff him 48-hours earlier and in the presence of both Giles and Wes, Xan admitted to what whole 'why' of it all. And his explanation blew her away.

"He told her that after what had happened between him, Willow and Cordelia as well as his own reputation at the school as the biggest loser around he didn't want it to get around that she had taken 'pity' on him one night. He had seen how the male population of Sunnydale High were now treating Cor all because she carried the stigma and distinction as his 'Ex' and he wanted to spare her of that. So he intentionally chose to go out of his way and avoid her and to keep their personal and private involvement on the mega-downlow in order to spare and protect her reputation from receiving the same slander and harm that Queen C was unjustly earning."

With a humble whisper, Buffy spoke, more to herself then to her sister. "Yeah, that sounds exactly what Xander would do too. The selfless-moron."

Dawn gently nodded in agreement. "Yep and it really messed with Faith's head in a major way. Two-days earlier she was trying to kill him, kill him all because he was trying to be sweet and protect a reputation, if we are completely honest, was already quite tainted. She had a lot of difficulties reconciling that she nearly killed the first decent guy she had ever known, everything didn't make much sense for her. Especially as she really never wanted to kill him in the first place."

"What do you mean?"

Dawn looked over to her sister, her posture more rigid then it was a second earlier. "Well, this is why I think Xan was her 'True-Love' and the reason I asked Lady Croft that question. After the fact, Faith was always very defensive about what she had done. It wasn't until she was in Prison for those two-years that she was able to reflect on the stuff leading up to her shift from good-guy to bad-mama. After she staked the Deputy, she was getting the whole guilt trip from you for what she did, even though it was an accident. And when she went to Giles and played 'hypothetical' in the hopes of feeling out what might happen if she owned up he told her about the Council and the 'reprogramming' that they do to Slayer's who accidentally kill normal humans. She panicked, and who could really blame her, that's when she dropped you in it deep. Telling G-man that it was you who staked the Mayor's lackey. As far as she was concerned none of you were really trying to help her."

"Hey, I offered her my support!"

"On condition, Buffy. That condition being she turns herself in straight away. She just freakin' killed a guy, staked him right through the heart. And instead of 'relating' to what she did, that this was something that could have just as easily have happened to you start pointing the finger and instructing her to turn herself over to the police."

"That's not exactly how I remember it. It was an accident, I *know* it was an accident and that she didn't mean it. But she got all freaky, talking about disposing of the evidence. I couldn't let that fly."

"She was panicking, Buffy. Panicking like mad. Everything between the two of you was gelling, she was a day or so away from asking you to play 'matchmaker' for her and Xan. Now everything was falling apart."

"An innocent man died, Dawn."

"A man died, but innocent? He worked for the Mayor. It was one-o'clock in the morning and he was snooping around the Dock Area spying on two seventeen year old girls getting into tussles with grown men who burst into ash. This should have sent the alarm bells ringing, Buffy?"

"A life is still a life. When I thought I killed what's her name and it ended out being Warren's old squeeze and that he set me up. I did the right thing and tried to walk into the Precinct."

"After what? A full day? Two? You were demanding Faith to do what you couldn't less then one-hour after the event. Double-standard much?"

"The difference is I didn't actually kill anyone."

"Yeah, but you didn't know that at the time did you? If Spike hadn't stopped you at the last second, you never would have discovered the truth."

Buffy didn't respond, she remained silent. Pensively staring in front of her as she accepted her sister's words."

"With Faith's mixed up feelings for Xander and now having someone's blood on her hands. She was afraid that she might not ever see him again if you did what you asked. Because she thought she would be sent to Prison for the rest of her life, either that or given the Death Penalty. Oh, and let's not forget what was waiting for her behind Curtain Number 3 – Watcher 'Reprogramming'. This gave her, for some strange reason, flashbacks of scenes from 'Clockwork Orange'. It was all too much, Buffy.

"All she was getting from the people who she knew and who she was turning to was this overwhelming feeling that she had let down the 'Slayer' title. The one thing that defined her, that gave her life purpose was being a Chosen One and she's having you and Giles fugitively shaking your heads in disapproval. Not one of you were trying to put themselves in her shoes. All she was getting was lectures and threats.

"Then suddenly Xander shows up at her doorstep offering her the two thing's she wanted and needed in all the world. An open-mind and a friendly ear. No preconceived judgements or dictates of _'Helping only after you flush your life down the toilet'_ assurances. Whatever desperation and coldness she had towards Xan days earlier for pretending that he didn't know her after they had slept with one another, they all melted away. Melted into a flood of gratitude. And I think it was at this moment, just as Xander was playing his Knight in Shining Armour riff*"

"*Which he does very well." The blonde Slayer offered her sister with a sad smile on her face. A smile that was reciprocated with a nod of agreement.

"You're preaching too the Choir, sister. Anyway, it was at this moment when I think her 'obsession' became love. At least, that is what I believe. It certainly ties-in with what Lara said because that's instant things suddenly went south for both her and Xan. The moment she welcomed him into her room and heard that he was willing to be there for her, WITHOUT-pre set conditions, that when she probably got all gooey and the Slayer-part of her probably said to itself _'Not Happening'_ or _'over my rotting corpse'_, or probably_ 'Not on my Watch, Sweetie'._ The rest we know.

"Faith told me during the one-on-one we had later that her memory of the actual 'act' of strangling Xander was pretty hazy, at least for those very important and significant several seconds. During that time she said she felt like a passenger in her own body. The words coming out of her mouth were her's but that she didn't remember wanting to say them. That it was all like some drunk-fog. She attributed this sketchy recollection to Angel suddenly showing up and giving her a Haymaker that ended up knocking her out flat for an hour or so. But my guess now is that it was probably the Slayer Spirit temporarily laying claim to it's vessel's body."

Buffy had listened carefully to her sister's explanation, no doubt about it, nearly every box appeared ticked. Everything seemed to neatly align with Lara's offering. But it all still seemed too 'neat' for her to accept.

"It never processed with her that this 'foggy' recollection of trying to strangle Xander was anything less then the outcome of having her brain nearly knocked out of her skull."

"Fine, so it explains the Xander-near-murder incident, but it doesn't explain her selling out to the Mayor."

"Of coarse it does, Buffy. How could she call herself a 'White Hat' when she nearly killed the type of person she slays Vamp's in order to protect? It sent her to a very scary place, and when Mr Trick was killed she knew that this darkness surrounding her meant that she probably had more in common with the Mayor then she did with us."

"But changing allegiances because she was freaking over Xan*"

"*I told you, it wasn't just because of Xander! So don't go pointing the finger at him." Dawn said defensively.

"I'm not. Really. I'm just relieved to know that there was more to her switching sides then just because she hated me, that's all."

"Oh don't worry, she hated you alright. She wanted to roast your guts over a hell-flame. She hated your goodie-goodie attitude. The fact that you were Giles' go-to girl. She also hated that after the strangulation incident, no matter how justified certain people were, aka Willow and Wesley, their words of 'trust' and their actions of 'trusting' did not exactly go hand-in-hand with the other. Not to mention that Angel was always on her case and kept following her around like some 'AA Sponsor'. Believe me, Buffy, there were a lot of reason's why she decided to go evil.

"What was that line by Jessica Rabbit? You know the one, _'I'm not bad, I'm just drawn that way.' _You guys were treating her as though her foot was already halfway through the 'door of darkness and no return' all it took was the smallest of nudges and she was pretty much in the room altogether. At least the Mayor made her feel welcomed, sure it may all have been a big fat lie, but she believed it because she wanted desperately to have someone believe in her and you guys just … weren't."

Buffy again processed everything and found her head nodding in complete understanding. For the first time in her life she actually thought she now knew exactly what Faith must have been feeling at that horrid time. The loneliness, the fear, the belief that she was a walking and breathing disappointment to everyone. Too think that no matter how hard you would try to make up for your past wrongs and mistakes that there would be people surrounding her who would never forgive or forget.

She remembered her own anger, emptiness and sense of betrayal when she discovered Riley had been cheating on her with a Vamp-Whore. She believed no-one could understand what she was enduring and she wanted to tear everything apart in a 'climb a clock tower' type of way. Was this the kind of internal emotion Faith felt when she believed that the Scoob's were no longer accepting her and treating her like a 'bad apple'? That Xander didn't want to be in the same room as her without several other people around to play bodyguard? She was ashamed to admit it to herself but that would probably have been enough of a nudge for her to switch to the dark side. And who knows, if Xander hadn't have shown up in that alley when he did and then put her in her place with that insightful speech of his ... Well, thinking back to the rage she was feeling at the time she could have very easily have slid off into the deep end and made Faith look like a Nun. But Faith didn't have a Xander to give her any soothing and uplifting words or any heart-to-heart talks; all she had was the silky lies of Mayor Wilkins the third.

Dawn was studying Buffy carefully, watching her older sister assimilate all the truths that were being laid down before her. But there was one truth, one honest and destroying fact that the younger sister hadn't as yet revealed and with Buffy now starting to understand Faith and her motivations a bit better she decided to break a promise and tell Buffy a hidden revelation. One that Faith would never admit to anyone and was only spoken to her because of the fast and powerful friendship she and the brunette Slayer had formed in the weeks leading up to the end of Sunnydale.

"Buffy?"

Absently the blonde responded. "Yeah."

"There is something else about Faith and Xander. But if I tell you, you can't go off the deep end. Promise?"

Buffy paused for a moment before answering. "Okay, fire away."

Dawn took a deep breath and then composed herself before she spoke. "Remember that time when Faith woke-up from her coma and made it so you two changed places? She jumped into your body and you jumped into her's?"

Uncomfortable with the memory this question prompted, the blonde Slayer drawled out her reply. "Y-e-a-h. What of it?"

Dawn took another deep breath before answering. "Okay, remember you just promised me you wouldn't react in a bad-way." She waited until Buffy nodded in the affirmative before she continued. "Well, the first and only thing Faith wanted to do when she escaped the hospital was to destroy the Scoob's and you for killing the Mayor, do you remember that?"

"Yeah, Dawn. I was kinda there and living the nightmare, you don't have to tell me what she put me through. After all I was the one dealing with the aftermath. Her sleeping with Riley, threatening Mom …"

Dawn offered a firm nod to both instances then cut her off before the list got too long and Buffy's forgiving nature was nullified by the wrongness of Faith's actions during that time. "Well, what she ended up doing to you back then was pretty much her 'Plan B'. 'B' was her trying to become 'you', and stepping into your shoes and living a 'Happily Ever After' lifestyle. But Plan A was something else entirely."

The Slayer braced herself for what might follow. "Okay then, what was 'Plan A'?"

Turning away and choosing to look down at her feet rather then her sister the chestnut academic answered. "Plan 'A' had her taking your body … with *her* consciousness and then using some excuse to get her and Xander alone. She was thinking a Patrol. She was then going to seduce and sex up Xander once more."

"WHAT!"

Dawn was momentarily startled by the shout, but quickly raised her hands up in an effort to pacify her sister. "Think about it, Buff, it would achieve everything she wanted without her so much as throwing a punch, and having a spot of fun in the process. Bare in mind this is Pissed-Off-Faith, not the 'Rebel-without-a-Cause' Faith that we have working with the Council now. Her mind was in complete vengeance-mode back then and she didn't care who she had to hurt to get what she thought was owing her. Seducing Xander and throwing the team into turmoil was just 'entertainment' before she would take you all down one-by-one. Y'know, it was the whole '_separate the herd and prey on the weakest first' _mentality she's famous for."

Buffy offered a nervous laugh at this claim and then shook her head in the negative, trying to settle herself and her own bubbling anger at the vixen. "Yeah, well I would have hated to be the one to rain on her parade, but Xander has come face-to-face with horny-Buffy during the Love Spell episode and he proved to be made of firmer … I mean, *stronger* stuff. No-way he would have fallen victim to a ploy like that again."

Dawn fidgeted slightly before she answered. "Hence the Rohipnal. Y'know the date-rape drug."

"Excuse me?"

"If Xander turned her … 'your' advances down, she had a hidden stash of Rohipnal she purloined during her time with the Mayor that she was going to use to spike his drink. He wouldn't have had Slayer metabolism to burn it out of his system as soon as it entered it so he would have collapsed like a stone after several minutes of digestion. She was then planning on stripping him down to nothing, then have her way with him as best she could under it's 'drunken effects', maybe even take some pics of the experience on your Cell to prove what they did the 'Wild Thing' together and use it as blackmail material later on.

"She had even predicted how everything would have gone down after the deed as well. The next day he would have woken up with a massive headache thinking that he had had a dozen more beers then he should have. Then looked at the evidence surrounding him: a naked him, a naked 'Buffy' and draw the conclusion that many would have. Xander's sense of integrity would have forced him to own up to Anya, especially after the Cordelia/Willow ordeal he went through, and Ahn most likely would have dumped his ass. After all, she was a former Vengeance Demon for scorned women with the whole _'Men-are-pure-evil-Mantra'_. I don't think she would have accepted any excuse from him that he was seeing 'pink elephants' at the time.

"Xan would have ended up heart broken or might even have been cursed, after all she might not be a demon anymore but she sure as hell knows her way around a spell or three. He then would have either tried to avoid 'you' like the plague or decide to come to the Faith-you thinking that you might actually have liked-him-liked-him, after all he had pretty much been drooling over you for years."

"He has not! Well, maybe at the beginning. But he's had girlfriends since and *"

"Buffy, you're speaking to the President of the Xander-Harris-fan-club. I may have been 15 going onto infinity, and maybe my memories were a little planted and influenced by our Monk-friends. But that doesn't mean I was oblivious to his foot-in-mouth problem or blind to how he would get a tiny bit jealous when you used to gush over Angel. He had a crush on you just as I had a crush on him. I'm just grateful that you never returned those feelings."

Nervously, Buffy ringed her hands together. "W-why?"

With a glint and a small smile, the once 'Key' answered. "Because then I would have had to kill you. But don't worry I wouldn't have made you suffer … much."

"How reassuring."

"Anyway, Faith was prepared for either, if Xander did show up at her-slash-your door she'd say 'no' and kick him to the curb at the same time as insulting his 'performance' or something else that would have been equally macho-damaging or devastating to his ego. That would take out Xander and Anya from your inner-circle.

"Undoubtedly Willow would have eventually found out Xander and the Faith-you had slept together, whether Xander ended up succumbing to your charms or being drugged, and that would put her offside and also have her 'walk' as well. In one swoop, the Scoob's are all broken apart leaving only her and Giles, and even then I suspect that her 'antics' with Xander would cause a significant rift in the father/daughter dynamic the two of you share. Faith was confident that within 48-hours of bedding Xander … again, that the Scooby's would have been no more."

Buffy was at a loss for words. The plan would have been close to perfect and could have easily been executed exactly as Dawn had said as she could have easily imaged this scenario coming together. If she had been seen and believed to have sexed up Xander and then cast him aside after their one-night-stand, that would not only have ruined her friendship with him but also the friendships she shared with everyone else. The blonde slayer felt momentarily dizzy as she sat down right next to Dawn to prevent herself from collapsing. Her mouth started to swell with a bitter and almost rancid taste, one that was nearly making her wish to run to the bathroom and remove. How close exactly did Xander come to being raped by 'her'?

"What … what made her decide not to go through with it?"

Dawn inhaled deeply, she was about to reveal something she had sworn to take to her grave, she just hoped that Buffy had the maturity not to use it as ammunition against Faith later down the track like the rest of the story she had just relayed. "Promise me you won't laugh?"

"I'm not feeling too humorous at the moment, but okay, I promise."

"Because she was afraid."

"Afraid? Afraid of what?"

"Afraid that if Xander did willingly have sex with her, her in the Buffy body. That he might have ended up preferring to have sex with 'you' more then he did having sex with 'her' a year earlier. And if Xander did, as she was half-expecting him to do, show up at your College Dorm with flower's and chocolates asking if the two of you could go steady, especially as this was the exact same thing he didn't do for her after the Jhe-incident, it would have destroyed her."

Buffy was stunned at how simple fear and vanity had saved her friend from a traumatic experience. But this realisation did little to settle the anger brewing deep inside of her over this confession.

"She swore me never tell anyone that story. But I think under the circumstances …"

Buffy could barely find her voice and she certainly didn't find it as comical as Dawn had indicated it would be. This was too much for her to handle. First the revelations of the Slayer's origins by Croft, then accepting the possibility that her chance of 'Freedom' had been literally at her side for years and she never acted on it. And now Dawn's hashing of a Faith-esk history that she was not aware of. She wanted desperately to break something right now, but her frustration and anger could only find one source she deemed an appropriate target. "I'm going to kill her. I'm going to throw her through a concrete wall and then another and then I'm going to pound her bones to dust with Olaf's Troll Hammer."

"Buffy, she didn't actually do what she said, she never went through with it. Besides you promised!"

"I don't care! How could she think for a moment that what she was going to do to Xander would be cool with me, or anyone else for that matter!"

"She didn't! She didn't go through with it and she only told this part of her story to me to help illustrate how crazy-mad she was over Xander back then and to help emphasis limits that I not fall into myself. That I *know* when and where to draw the line when it came to my crush with him and not go insane stalker-girl like she did. She was using herself as a *bad* example, Buffy."

"Dawn*"

"*Buffy, listen to me. It wasn't easy for her to admit this too me, it was even harder for me to hear. I wanted to slap her silly, and I think deep down she wanted me to do that too. Unlike you, Buffy, I actually cared deeply for Xander. I was the one with the annoying school-girl infatuation, remember? It's not an easy thing to hear a person who was quickly becoming a friend and your only confidant admit that they were just one bad choice away from ruining your secret-love's life."

Buffy sprung up from the bed, her face displaying the deepest of shocks, sided with a slash of fury that her own sister had such a shallow opinion of her own thoughts and feelings. "That's enough, Dawn. Don't you ever say that I never cared about Xander! And don't you ever compare *my* legitimate history with Xander with *your* fantasy one. Every decision I made about him, good or bad, was always *FOR* him and his best interests. In some cases, yeah, they may have been rushed and wrong, but don't think for one mille-second that I didn't do what I did because I didn't care! The same goes with you, Willow or Giles."

"Yeah, well don't think for one *micro-second* that I care about your motives. I just know what he went through. The ups and the downs. The neglect and the support. There were some months when he didn't really know whether he was on the outer's with you and everybody or not. And as much as Anya got on my nerves sometimes always talking about his _'vikingness'_ and being _'hung like a Stallion'_ I will still always be grateful for her because at least she offered him some stability in a very unstable life. Ensuring that when he got back into Town after his 'American Journey' that he didn't go off man-whoring himself around at the Bronze like a lot of other guys did once they finished High School. She kept him off the market."

"Off the market? For who? For you? Is that what you really think? Dawn, you never had a shot with him. You were always his teenage 'little sister'. He cared about you and he was fond of you, but there was never going to be anything happening there no matter how many times you signed off in that silly Journal of yours _'the future Mrs Dawn Harris'_."

"THAT WAS PRIVATE! How dare you sneak a peek at my private property!"

"Are you kidding me? We had an entire house full of Potential Slayer's squeezed into every available room and crevice. Do you really think no one would have snooped it out? Word of warning, hiding stuff under your mattress only emphasises it for tasty reading."

Dawn's face went scarlet. "You mean everyone …"

Buffy lost the momentum towards provoking her little sister further at spying her embarrassed and startled expression. It would have been easy for her to continue on with the performance, but instead she chose to take pity. "Of coarse not. You're just lucky it was Willow who found the damn thing first. As soon as she opened it and realised what it was with all your love-doodles, she put a spell on it so that it could only be opened by you then put it back where she found it."

"Then how did you know about the 'Mrs Harris' bit?"

Buffy sighed. "Because I did the same with Angel when I was around your age. I used to graffiti my school books with _'Angel and Buffy 4 ever'_. Trust me, it wasn't much of a leap to figure out what you would have put in that damn diary of yours. You were writing in it all the time and your crush on Xander was as obvious as a bad comb-over."

"Did Xander …"

"Know about you mondo-crushing on him? Duh. He'd have to be blind as well as deaf. We used to even joke and tease him about it during our Scooby meetings. Why did you think Anya always lagged along when he came around to baby-sit? She was the only one that didn't think your crush was funny."

"You … you mean Xander used to laugh about my feelings?"

Buffy buried her head into her hands, she walked right into that question. "No! Of coarse not. Willow, Mom and Me thought it was amusing. Anya was seething. And Giles didn't care. Xander was … well, he was sympathetic. He wasn't angry or amused or didn't care. He used to say that he knew what it was like to have feelings for someone and be afraid to ever tell them that they exist. This only got Anya more territorial and made me and Will tease him more. But no, he never laughed or made fun of what you felt for him. He actually took the title of being your 'first crush' very seriously. After a near decade of Willow crushing on him and him being insensitive to it all, he said that he would now 'pay-it-forward' by being the best Xander in front of you so all the other fellas that would undoubtedly come after would pale in comparison. Gotta say, that earned him major Brownie points with Mom, even if that wasn't the case with Anya. That's why Mom would always ask him for 'Dawn Patrol' detail first and not Will or Tara."

Dawn's cheeks began to lose the glow of her embarrassment, but her silence was unnerving to the older sister who could clearly see that she was still very much pre-occupied with what she had said to her.

"Dawn, it's because of that speech years earlier that I trusted Xander with the one thing I treasured most in all the world. Not Giles, not Willow, not Anya, not Andrew or Spike or Angel. I trusted him with you. Why do you think I asked him to 'kidnap' you before we were about to make our move on the First? I wanted the two people I cherished the most out of the line of reprisals if we failed and everything went south. Not that it worked out as well as I had hoped, as kidnapper's go Xan pretty much sucked. But I knew with all my heart that he would always look after you, care for you and love you. That he would give up his life to keep you safe and that his thoughts towards you would never stray below the belt region."

These collection of words caused Dawn to stare at her sister in a dumbfounded manner and then break away into a sprint to the ensuite. Slamming the door in good measure as she entered the tiled area.

The fists that had been balled at Buffy's side relaxed and she took a defeated posture. No doubt about it, Dawn had inherited her temperamental side. What did she just say just then to warrant this kind of reaction? Through the wood of the barrier that separated them both her acute Slayer-Hearing could detect the strangled sobs of her only family. Meekly she approached the door, gently tapping and praying for an invitation to enter.

"GO AWAY! I don't want to speak to you or hear your stupid voice."

"Dawn, I'm sorry. I was out of line, I don't know what I said that was so wrong. But I'm sorry for saying it."

"I said I don't want to speak to you!"

"Well if you want me to stop then you're going to have to come out of the bathroom and make me, because I am going to keep on talking and apologising till you forgive me. For whatever I just did."

Buffy gently placed her forehead to the surface of the door. After a moment that seemed like forever she continued, trying a different tact instead. "Xander would have been damn lucky to have a girl like you, you do know that right? Mom … mom loved him to death. She really did. He was the only boy that she ever allowed to come around to the house uninvited. She was never truly comfortable with Angel, but with Xander it was an open-door policy. I think she would have been tickled pink if one of her daughter's were able to bag that goofball and bring him home to dinner."

"HE'S NOT A GOOFBALL!"

Buffy quickly back peddled. At least the younger was now talking … okay shouting, but at least there was a dialogue happening that wasn't a demand for her to leave her alone. "Okay, okay. Not a goofball. But he is a great guy and if I could wish anybody for you it would probably be someone like him."

"YEAH, BUT *NOT* HIM, RIGHT?"

The Slayer sighed. "Dawn, you have to take into account Xander's feelings as well. I didn't say that stuff earlier to hurt you. I was just saying that perspective-wise he will always look at you as a little sister, just … just as I had always looked at him as my Xander-shaped-friend. Some titles can't be shattered easily. You said it yourself, Xander had a crush on me for years and I kinda knew that. But not once did I ever give him any impression that I was 'interested' or that I wanted things to progress beyond us being friends. If I was to walk up to him right now, given our history, and ask if we could be more than what we were, I honestly think that would be next to impossible. The same goes for you. I have the 'best friend' tag and you have the 'little sister' one."

'YEAH, WELL HE'S CHANGED A LOT SINCE YOU LAST SAW HIM. HE DOESN'T LOOK AT ME LIKE A LITTLE SISTER ANY MORE. HE LOOKS AT ME LIKE AN ADULT."

From her side of the door, Buffy, opened her mouth in preparation to respond on how she knew that, then instantly closed it as she recalled that it was Dawn who months earlier had flown to Xander's bedside instead of her. This realisation bought with it a momentary chill. The Slayer imagined Xander awakening from his operation and finding a dutiful and worried little sister sitting by his bed. One word being exchanged for another then leading to a Florence Nightingale type romance. Buffy closed her eyes and tried to suppress this strange feeling of jealousy, doing her best to deny that such a scenario took place. Placing her forehead again to the surface of the door and her hand on the knob which would permit her entry, but not turning it. The Blonde continued on with the Xander theme. "I know he's changed, Dawn. I was thinking that very thing earlier tonight. Hell, I've been thinking that ever since Giles allowed me to read the Council's Files on him. And yes, you are an adult. I know it and he knows it too. But you are still my sister that that truth does not change with age. God, Dawn, I love you to death. I am so proud of you, and it's not just me whose proud but everyone. And that 'everyone' would easily include Xander as well. No body looks down their nose at you, unlike me."

The Slayer's claim was met with silence.

Taking a breath, Buffy continued. "When we met in your room a few days ago and you told me that I had no right to go swaggering into Giles office and demand Africa away from Xander, that surprised me. For one, that you *actually* think that I would do that to him. Him of all people, Dawn. And two, that I still had that kind of 'pull' with the Council anymore. At present my star isn't shining so bright, Dawn and it hasn't for about a year or so, I faced these facts awhile ago. There was a time when I wouldn't have had to fly to England to personally ask Giles for a reassignment. GILES, Dawn, Giles! After everything we've been through with one another. The battle's, the blood, the misery. I couldn't just pick up a phone and say to him 'pretty please'. No, I had to come in physically and do it face-to-face. Like I had been called to the Principle's Office. And what did I do when I had my chance? I ranted and vented for about an hour about being kept out of the Xander-loop. I didn't even earn Giles wasting his time yelling back at me."

More silence welcomed her ears.

"It's been nearly three-years since Cleveland and I haven't landed a single 'whale' in that time. No End-of-the-World saving from Buffy. Faith, Kennedy and Christ even mousy-Monique has prevented at least two potential Apocalypse's a piece in that time. When there was still a Sunnydale Hellmouth and not a crater in the ground it always seemed like every year we had something New, Big and Bad in the offing. But my life for the past three has been on cruise-control and I seriously think that I may have lost my Slaying-edge, and that scares me.

"What I'm trying to say, Dawn is that I *know* Xander has changed and he's probably changed for the better. I read his Watcher Folder's from start to finish and I was in complete awe at what he has accomplished. Scary-awe, Dawnie. And he did it without anyone. Do you know what it's like to read that stuff and think that it was you who was always holding him back? I'll tell you what it feels like: It sucks. He's grown and I have stayed the same. You've grown and I have stayed the freakin' same. Faith has grown and I've stayed the freakin' damn same. Willow's grown and I've *"

"*OKAY! Were you trying to get to a point anytime soon?"

Grateful that the yelling now seemed to have stopped, the blonde sister answered. "Yes, Dawn. It's this, he may have gotten 'better' but he's not the same Xander he was when you were crushing on him three to four years ago. None of you are, except for me. You can't transplant your old emotions onto the 'new' Xander anymore then I could expect me and Angel being able to slide back seamlessly into our 'coupleness'. There is too much history there now."

From the other side of the door, Dawn's voice raised up. "He he hasn't changed that much, not really. He's still brave and funny. He joked with the nurses all the time when I was with him. There was a weird rumour going around the Hospital when I was there that he was dragged in by some psychotic gun toting glamour model and they all thought I was her."

A smirk appeared on the blonde's face. "Glamour model, huh?"

"I won't deny that I didn't feel a slight ego-boost at being thought of as a Glamazon, but I could have done without the comments from people who were doing a peek-a-boo into his room, spot me and then say that someone must have been drinking-on-duty when they made the comparison. But on the important stuff, he's still one-hundred percent Xander."

Buffy traced the outline of the door with her index finger. "Maybe, but danger is part of the life he leads now, Dawn. He nearly got cleaved in two-pieces for Christ's sake and then he jokes about it? And there was other stuff I read in his files, scary-stuff Dawn. He puts himself in dire peril nearly every month, literal life-and-death threats, Dawn."

"How is that any different then when he was in Sunnydale with you and the rest of the Scooby's?"

The Slayer paused and chose her next words carefully before she answered. "It isn't any different and that's the only part of his life that hasn't changed. He still puts himself in jeopardy. Even if he can easily avoid, he doesn't. I'm a Slayer, Dawn. I always thought my life had some unseen expiration date so I generally lived in the moment. Now we have over 4,000 scattered around the globe, 200 on active-duty. With that many as back-up I am thinking, for the first time in close to ten years, that I might live to retirement age. But he still puts his life on the line and takes unnecessary risks. I know that you probably think that's *SEXY*, Dawn, and believe me I went through all the stages of 'Sexy-and-suicidal-love' with Angel, Riley and Spike. And it took years for me to work this truth out.

"That truth is this, Sexy-love is a guy who will come home to you every night and who loves you, Dawn. Sexy-love is not whether the guy can hold their own in a fight, or the number of scars they have on their body, or the various war stories they can reminisce over. Sexy-love isn't whether they look mega hot in leather pants … no, scratch that last one, that kinda does matter. But that kind of love is transient, it's fleeting, it's temporary. In short, it's CHEAP! What good is being in love with someone who could die on you the very next day? You are just welcoming a hell of a lot of unnecessary misery into your life if you do and that's not SEXY! It doesn't even come close."

The door gently opened with a red-eyed Dawn Summer's standing holding the handle. "But the fight's and the danger kind of find him he doesn't go looking for them. What is he supposed to do? Walk away and do nothing if people need him?"

Buffy drew her sister in an embrace, one that was eagerly welcomed. "Xander, would never do that. And one day it will get him deader then disco and that scares the Hell out of me. That's why I never wanted him to go to Africa alone in the first place."

"But if he had a good woman …"

"Don't even go there, little sister. I think back to what Willow told him when he announced where he was going, and though he denied it I think her arm-chair psychiatrist act was pretty much on target. He chose Africa because in some small part of his soul he felt the need to punish himself with hardships for what happened to Anya."

"But it's been years."

"He loved her, Dawn. And she loved him back, in her own weird Anya-like way. The woman who would be able to move both his heart and to heal it would have to be incredible."

Into her shoulder's crevice her sister mumbled. "How about 'extraordinary'?"

The Slayer smiled at the reference her sister had made to one she had spoke of earlier that night at the dinner table and felt better that they were both able to put the awkward Xander-moment behind them and joke once more. "I don't know? Wouldn't that make your pseudo-boyfriend a little jealous? If you start going fickle and decide to chase down an old High School crush how do you think it will make him feel?"

"I think he could deal. He's pretty understanding."

"And your still not going to tell me who he is, are you?"

Dawn pulled herself out of the hug and shock her head in a firm negative.

Buffy ruffled her younger's hair in a playful manner to help ease themselves back into a comfortable exchange. One devoid of tension and angry words. "Your avoidance on telling me who he is should make me suspicious. But I have to admit, you do have good taste in men. So if you judge this guy as a worthy successor to your Xander-infatuation then I suppose I can offer you a bit of leeway, for the moment. But don't wait too long before you say something to him, you might miss your window of opportunity just like I did with my 'better-half'."

"Don't worry sister. If there is one thing I learned from tonight after hearing of Chosen One's True Loves and Lara and her own romance it's this : _Que pendo must usquequaque nixor ut perficio is_!"

"Say what now?"

"It's Latin, Buffy. It's translation is: _Those who value love must always strive to achieve it_."

"Great. That doesn't mean your now going to throw in Oxford and become a Hooker?"

"No. It means procrastination is for those who do not have the guts to be happy today! The next time I see him I'm going to ball up all my courage and I'm just going to tell him what I feel. What happens, happens."

Buffy stroked Dawn's hair in the same manner their mother used to stoke hers when she was a little girl. "Those who value love, huh? Sounds like good advice to me. And I'm always a sucker for listening to good advice. I mean, yeah, the worst that could happen is the guy tells you thanks, but no thanks and your right back to where you start. No harm, no foul."

"Just left feeling broken hearted, that's all."

"Hey, no defeatist attitude from you, little girl. If this guy can't see how great you are and how wonderful it would be to have you in his life then he sounds like a first rate idiot to me. And I don't think I like the idea of you dating any idiot's, is that clear?"

Her affirmative tone and instruction earned Buffy a giggle, which was like music to her ears. "C'mon, lets get to sleep. The sooner we bed down, the sooner we wake up. And the sooner we wake up the sooner we can corner her 'Highness' on tonight's Dog and Pony Show."

Without saying too much in addition to what was already said the pair got changed into the spare pj's Henry had provided them both before he had left them earlier. With the lights off both sister's settled into their beds, but neither fell asleep straight away. After ten-minutes of silence, Dawn's voice whispered out to her sibling.

"Buffy. If it wasn't Angel, Riley or Spike who do you think your True Love was?"

The Slayer stirred, then angled herself to be facing away from her sister before she replied. "Probably someone who I would have been proud to take home to Mom, Dawn."

6FD

Reviews welcomed. No Flamers.


	5. Chapter 5

Lady Lara Croft finished brushing down the coat of her prized black stallion – _Triumph_ and peered up at the clock overhanging the stable's entrance and exit. Their five a.m. ride together had been, as always, exhilarating. To her there was nothing on this earth that was compatible or as beautiful to spending 90-minutes galloping across her dew covered pastures as fragments of the sun broke over the horizon. Then watching the warmth of the sunlight as it pierced the morning mist, observing the vapours gently burn away into the crisp post-dawn air. Once upon a time this was a joy she never truly took any pleasure in; she would do these morning rides as a matter of course as it was the only time she had in the day to take advantage of them. Typically she would ride Triumph full boor through her land and around obstacles whilst practicing her marksmanship. The dawn silence would be broken with the echoing sounds from a shotgun, rifle, crossbow or her ever reliable twin Desert Eagles being fired repeatedly across the solitary expanse of her private land.

A small chuckle rose up in the Tomb Raider's throat at this memory of herself from years past. It still amazed her how the simple affections of a good and genuine man could have in cooling the heated blood of one of Britain's original 'Wild Children'. Taking a moment to reflect on who she once 'was' and comparing it to the woman she now 'is', she had to admit she would not have her transformation any other way. And she suspected deep down, given how much he seemed to now equally enjoy their rides together, neither would Triumph. This was the only guilty pleasure she shared with others of her gentry-station in life and it was one, she had to admit, she would not give up for all of the Jewels in the Tower of London.

Placing the brush on the shelf beside his stall entrance as she led him in, she walked the large quadruped around to his feed trough. As Triumph buried his enormous head into his morning meal, Lara patted and stroked the beast's coat with affection. "You know in a couple of month's I won't be able to ride you anymore, at least not for a while. You're going to have to get your daily exercise from either Henry or Bryce."

At the mention of the last name the black behemoth raised it's head in mid-consumption and looked directly at it's mistress, his expression to her eyes at least, seemed one that was almost 'human' in nature and full of sinister-bemusement at the suggestion of the techno-geek once more climbing on to his back. Lara couldn't help but laugh as she now recalled in her mind the last time Bryce had attempted to master the skill of horse riding. She allowed her gentile laugh to stifle itself as her memories flowed further to the week that had followed this failed effort. Of seven days of complaints that bellowed endlessly from his uncouth gob about the bruises and aches he had earned from repeatedly falling off Triumph's back mid-trot and his claims that _'that bleedin 'effin' Horse had it in for him'_.

There was no doubt that she treasured her own 'dysfunctional family' in the same way that her Alexander obviously valued his. Though she sincerely doubted that the twerpish-'little-brother' of hers harboured the same romantic intentions for her as Alex's 'sisters' obviously did for him. When she was chatting with Henry at the end of the previous evening, she had felt confident and secure that despite the obstacles she had now willingly placed in front of both her and Alex's love that his affection for her would endure. That he would chose her over the sisterly rivals. But eight-hours seemed now such a long time ago and after a night of restless sleep and a mild case of morning sickness she now felt less confident and the less 'attractive' a prospect to the beautiful Californian pair presently slumbering. Yet it was 'one' particular Californian sister in this pair that was causing most of the tossing-and-turning of the former night.

The one named 'Buffy' should not have even have rated as a 'blip' on her radar. After all, it was the younger sister, Dawn, who was the focus of her 'rivalry'. Big Sister Buffy was just part of the package-deal, the fact that she was a Slayer and someone from Alex's past was just something she had accepted without concern. But last night, Lara, had heard the torn-loneliness and regret in the other's voice as she spoke of her absent friend 'Xander' and of her distain at having argued and then doubting him prior to 'Xander' choosing his independent life of adventure in Africa. The blonde's voice carried in it a longing that was unmistakable to her Ladyship ears as it was that same wistful and lonely tone she had employed many times over the past several months when speaking to either Henry or Bryce over how much she missed the caress of 'her man'.

It was because of this substitution of new information that provoked an unhappy case of interrupted slumber as she fiercely fought her recall on all 'Buffy' related topic's that ever left Alexander's lips. In the several hours of darkness, when sleep should have been her priority, she found herself trying to force from her memory every discussion Alex had had with her about the fair-haired Slayer and trying to glimmer any subtle tell from those stored conversations that would betray more to their camaraderie then just …. 'Friendship'.

There was no denying that Buffy was beautiful, probably not as 'ample' in certain famine areas as her sister or herself, but then again that was why God invented Plastic Surgeon's. This aside however she could not deny a 'quality' for attraction there. A no-nonsense attitude and take-charge demeanour within the blonde that she knew would have appealed to a softer aspect of Alexander. After all, Alex by his own admission stated he had always had a partiality to 'strong-minded' women. A truth she could not deny, because if he didn't then she doubted he would have been able to tolerate her taking charge as many times as she did in the past with their various escapades.

But when she started to recount the stories in her mind of his 'Scooby' days and of his various musing involving 'Buffy', she had to now admit there were gaps in his various tales. Ones which though were not obvious were still very much shy in certain detail. Especially when compared to some of his anecdotes involving other members of his 'family'. He could speak with casualness and calm on all these other identities and not miss a single beat, but with the fair-haired Slayer, she now had to concede he always seemed to take an abundance of care. Often pausing too juggle a phrase or description, as though he was trying to be truthful without coming across as either bias or disagreeable.

This 'care' he offered in describing the blonde Vampire Slayer had never caused her to wonder, or even wish, to delve deeper into the nature of this woman or her association with him. But now? Now, she regretted this respect. Because now she was left wondering on the nature of Alex's avoidance. Was his reluctance to share personal information about the adventures they participated in due to the pain she caused him three-years earlier, or to the pain he feels towards being reminded of her? And if this was so then it usually meant that feelings that could be so powerfully damaged were usually ones that also ran deeper then most others.

It was these type of simple and unanswered questions that had aided in promoting the occasional yawns thus far this morning, and it were these questions that were also forcing her to pose too herself just how deep did Alexander's feelings for the Slayer plunge?

She had for some time suspected that one of the reasons behind Alex's desire not to make their Union an official one wasn't due to the respect he had claimed he possessed for the Chieftain who had performed the ceremony. And even though she knew that Alex counted the Tribal Leader as a close friend, she also knew that the Chieftain would not have held any ill-feelings if she and Alex *did* seek a Marriage Certificate to help support his ceremony. After all, it was only a local ritualistic ceremony used on Tourist's couples who were willing to separate themselves from 300 US Dollars, and one that was not recognised beyond the borders of the Village it-self. It was for many only a Holiday-Lark, an exotic experience for holiday-makers to have and share in. One that they could brag to all their friends and family when they returned back from their various Safari Vacations of how 'outrageous, spontaneous and unique' they allowed themselves to be. It wasn't something that those who had partaken ever truly took seriously. Unless of course your name happened to be Alexander Harris. If you went by A. L. Harris then you tended to take whatever oaths and promises you make to others more seriously then you do your next breath of air. So to be then asked to repeat those very same oaths in another configuration and in another venue, perhaps a Church and in front of a Priest, well, if you were Alexander Harris, you would consider repeating such vows a second-time an 'insult' to your character.

At least that was always the 'fall-back' on this rationale. The whole 'don't you trust me?' sidestep. It didn't really seem to matter that he obviously had not told anyone from his 'Family' about the two of them yet. Even though they have been romantically involved with one another for close to two-years. Heavens, if she didn't believe his love was so genuine then she would have been led to believe that he was actually ashamed.

But who was he really _ashamed_ of? That was the question of the hour.

She tried this argument once a year ago when she offered to contact Mr Giles and have him around to her home for a dinner in order to introduce herself. But he assured her that her offence at being 'kept a secret' was misplaced. So if it wasn't her he was ashamed of then that only left one other party in this equation - himself. But why? Did he think she was too good for him? And if he did then why did he believe this? Or was there perhaps another reason?

To date, Alex's efforts in avoiding the _'are-we-really-married'_ issue had been, as always, in and of itself comical and therefore to her slightly forgivable. Forgivable to a point that is. He would behave much like a child trying to avoid a compliment, deflecting and then weaving his words to parallel subjects that might defuse the issue. In her mind it only meant that, like a small child, he possibly harboured some insecurity and doubts of his own worth. Doubt's that there would ever be someone out there in the Big, Bad and Messy World who could actually love him. So for harmony sake she played the 'game' his way, letting him off load the subject and not pester him as much as her heart desired her too. But time, unfortunately, was now playing against the pair.

Lara offered herself a small and sad smile as she watched Triumph once again resume eating his feed. This should have been one of the happiest times of her life. She was with a man she adored and trusted and she was with child, *his* child. And she knew deep in her heart that this unborn cherub would be both healthy and as happy as any son or daughter could possibly be. But instead of being permitted to be 'happy' she was receiving edicts from dear Aunty 'Liz' to determine if the father of her future-offspring was a 'Stayer' or a 'Player'. It was enough to give a person an ulcer. But as troublesome as all this was, she had to admit it was trouble worth enduring. Because if her long range plan came to fruition it meant that Alex would emerge a stronger, happier and a more confident person and that she would never have to doubt the strength of his love ever again.

She was now mid-way through her second month of pregnancy; as such she was still able to safely conceal the swell of growth around her abdomen. But in another month the life growing within her would be more visible for the public to view. So whether he wanted to or not in the up coming weeks, Alex would have to confront his 'worthiness'. He could no longer play the role of a 'small child' when the topic of their future together arises. He had to make a decision of whether or not he wanted to be a *real* husband and not just play the role whenever her adventures permitted her to visit South Africa. It was time for him to grow up and ask himself what it was he wanted in this life. No more self-doubts. No more recriminations.

For once she wanted him to be selfish, not selfless. She wanted him to look at her and then *command* her to be his and no one else. But that was the trouble; Alex always put other people before himself. He never asked of anything, he always waited until it was offered.

Why couldn't his courage flow into all areas of his personality? She had witnessed Alex run blindly into a fire fight with only a tin-opener as a weapon. Seen him calmly tread and navigate around a pride of ravenous Lion's whilst carrying an injured and bleeding Gazelle. Even observed his tolerances for her infamous 'stew-surprise', but when the issue did not require as much 'nerve' or courage and topic's strayed towards discussions of 'the future' and his 'intentions', or other intimate subjects he would break into a mess of fumbling-excuse-driven-babble that would almost make you feel sorry for him.

Alexander Harris was to her mind the 'Ideal' and there did not seem to be any part of him that didn't compliment and fill every deficiency or emptiness in her life with ease. When she was feeling low, he could make her feel happy. When she would become too Quest-orientated he could give her perspective. And when she felt no one could understand her he would say something completely innocent that would prove this belief wrong. Alexander Harris had become in a lot of ways, her 'redemption' in this life.

Prior to her 'Alex'-days she was living the life of her own hype and legend. Lara _'The Tomb Raider'_ Croft had earned herself an unhealthy reputation of taking things to the extremes. And it was because of this chosen lifestyle that she rarely ever thought about the consequences of what 'tomorrow' would be able to offer her. She lived solely in the moment and embracing a pathetic and lonely philosophy of never allowing the grass to grow beneath her feet. But ever since that fateful day when she met Alex she found herself changing, subtly at first, but the change was a welcome one. He taught her to no longer *live* in the collection of moments but rather to *appreciate* every given second and freedom offered. That 'Living' and 'Life' were two completely different concepts and through his affection she learned to enjoy both.

During the moon-heavy nights when they would cuddle besides a random campfire, digesting her 'stew'. He would wax philosophical concepts and demonstrate an insight of the World and the Universe that would put Socrates to shame. Entertaining her and confusing her both with his unique perspective on life. He was the only man she knew who could talk for hours, chatting about the dynamics of the Muppet Show characters and make plausible comparisons. Even though she slightly resented to the Miss Piggy appraisal, as long as he always remained her Kermit, she didn't care how often he called her that name … as long as it was in private in not public.

And where once she doubted she could have tolerated spending more then five-minutes sitting still pondering nothing. She could now easily spend hours in content silence watching and admiring a distant horizon turn from day, to dusk, and from dusk to night as the man of her heart sat in equal silence besides her. He helped her see and appreciate the beauty around her and now she saw it in nearly everything.

As these memories stirred, Lara, allowed herself to push down the earlier troublesome thoughts. She blushed as words that were spoken only to her ears now seemed to whisper anew and echo in her mind. Words of both affection and tenderness that she was confident were *never* spoken to anyone but her. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever think that a simple off-road accident could have had such a profound impact on her romantic life. But then again the same could probably have been said about Alex as well. Lord knows years ago when they first met they both weren't in any state of mind to seek any romantic entanglement. But sometimes Fate plays sport with people's hearts and that's exactly what happened. Fate took both their hands and entangled them together and she hadn't wanted to let go of his since that wonderful day.

Lara again returned to stroking the coat of the black stallion as she allowed herself to become lost in contemplation. 'Romantic Baggage' was never something she dwelled too much on, Lara had known that Alexander had several relationships over the years and that he admitted that none had ever fared well or reflected positively upon him at their culmination. The first girlfriend he said he had he ended up cheating on with another who he had lured away, temporarily, from a person whom he had judged as a close-friend. Even to this day he says that he was unsure of what the true motivations behind the pseudo-affair were other then it was to address a curiosity of the pair's growing attraction of the other. The other 'love-of-his-life' he abandoned at the alter and then lost to death's icy touch.

True, it wasn't the most favourable of backgrounds. A self-confessed 'cheater', 'cad' and 'ditcher'. But in all these cases he was following the dictates of his heart, and for that she could not really condemn without appearing hypocritical to her own collection of misdeeds. She was, after all, hardly in any position to cast an accusing finger given her own 'colourful life' of going from one lover to another. Infact, compared to some of the things she had done, Alex, came off looking like an alter boy. Even to this very day she's still not permitted to set foot upon Vatican Ground without a contingent of very strict Nun's acting as her 'shadow'. The sad truth is that they had both done things in their previous lives with their past 'partners' that would reflect poorly on both of them. Though she had to admit that what she did with Father Hagen in the catacombs below the Sistine Chapel was nearly completely worth grief it later caused her. The brazen difference however between their separate 'histories' is that with Alex neither of the women at the end of their association with him ever sincerely harboured him any long-term ill will. This small fact that they all continued to maintain their association and friendships with him after their break-up spoke volumes to the impact he must have had in their lives. Most of *her* 'ex's' would shoot first, second, three times, reload, *then* say _'how's life treating you?'_ But regretfully Alex could not see that, at least not in the same manner that she could. All he could see was the lives he had injured because of his selfishness. A selfishness that she had yet to ever see herself.

Affectionately Lara rubbed her stomach once more, now more a compulsion then a wilful act. And as always with this tender and physical inclusion she couldn't stop a smile from creeping over her face even during these more morose moments as she acknowledged that within her was a life born of love taking form. Under extreme circumstances and confident in her assurances to Henry and Bryce she did not possess a single doubt that should he become aware of her condition, Alex, would not hesitate to _'do the right thing'_. But that was something she was unwilling to explore and no amount of prompting from Henry would get her to change her mind. She did not wish to use their unborn child as leverage to force an 'official' marriage from him. She wanted him to enter her life with eyes well opened to the love that already existed and not feel as though he had been 'trapped' by the existence of a 'third life'. _Lara Croft_ did not compromise, nor was she anyone's charity case. She would not beg, plead or bargain, even though in her eyes Alex was well worth all three.

As her Ladyship continued to rub her belly she temporarily allowed her mind to drift towards the second Summer's sister. Dawn Summer's was initially to have been her only contender for Alex's heart at least that was the original strategy. A couple of months earlier she had secretly observed the extent of the younger sibling's affection to an unconscious Alex in the Botswana Hospital. She had seen the sister's tears and heard the raked voice as she pleaded an unconscious Alexander to wake up from his surgery and to survive the brutality that was inflicted upon him.

It was a heart breaking spectacle for her to witness, to see another woman's tears flow endlessly over the bed of her lover. But it encouraged her a month later to learn more about this 'rival', so she approached Dawn's collection of Professor's at Oxford. In these exchanges with the various Don's she discovered the calibre of person and student they had all thought her to be. It was not really surprising for her to discover that many educator's of the younger Summer's expressed admiration towards the academic. The adventurer had even secretly step into one of her classes and observed the youthful scholar's interactions with Professor Crawford when she found out said Oxford Master was going to hold a Lecture on the _Myth and Fact of the Amazonian Tribe_. Something that, for present and obvious reasons, she thought might prove enlightening to the preparations of her current adventure plans. In that Lecture Hall she was privileged to see a fierce, and surprisingly polite, exchange between the 'old and the new' modes of thinking as Dawn opposed her Professor in healthy debate.

Everything that she discovered about the young Oxford student only impressed her and compelled her heart to believe that if she was to lose Alexander to anyone she would have willingly accepted his loss to someone like Dawn Summer's. Dawn was clever, witty, sensitive, genuine, caring, respectful, charming and also very … _'girl next door'_ pretty. But most of all it was obvious that Dawn Summer's cared very deeply for Alexander. And she also knew from his past stories that Alex also harboured a deep and genuine affection for the chestnut haired beauty himself.

But Buffy … well, that was a tiger of a different stripe altogether. What she knew of this 'feline' was far more limited, sketchy and solely dependant upon the carefully constructed opinions of Alex. And this annoyed her. Looking back now she had to admit that Alex's account to her of their 'falling-out' should have set the alarm-bells ringing in her mind. After all, a friendship forged in life and death are ones, from her experience, that are not so easily shattered by a few cruel and inconsiderate words. Unless, of coarse, those words were deeply personal ones. Reflectively, Lara had to confess that she felt more threatened by what *wasn't* said by him towards the Slayer: 'Buffy Summers' then that which *was*.

So when Dawn volunteered to enlighten her during the dessert portion of their evening meal, and after Buffy had departed the dining room to the true nature of this disagreement, well, it went a long way in explaining the sensitive features on the Slayer's face as she had left the room. Buffy had probably long given up on the fact that their 'rift' could ever be repaired and had thereby chosen to isolate her hopes to always be on the outside looking in where he was concerned. After all, if there was one thing she could easily attest too it was this; Alex could keep a chip on his shoulder longer then nearly anyone. And if you ever found yourself on his 'bad' side then you could expect to remain there till the end-of-time with no chance of reprieve. His mulish attitude however did have some side-benefits, she knew from thrilling-experience that if you were in danger or under threat, that it was this same type of stubborn-determination that often proved to be a lifeline to your very survival. Even if it stood against the face of all reason or self-preservation on his end.

… Against all reason and self-preservation, ha!

If she had any common-sense she would send both Buffy and Dawn home and try and find some other way to get Alexander to realise how desirable he was. She certainly wouldn't subject him to such compelling competition. But as the saying goes, in for a Penny, in for a Pound. And if she was going to place Alex's love to the furnace with Dawn, then why not with Buffy as well? The more, after all, the merrier. At the very least it would offer two of their number some sense of closure and allow them to proceed with their lives, even though she doubted Alex would see it the exact same way as her.

For normal men to be objectified and competed for by three attractive women would be like a dream come true. Alexander Harris, however, was someone she had long since learned, was as far from the standard classification of 'normal' as she had ever met, and that was probably what first caught her attention. Though not 'classically handsome' in the traditional sense, Alex, did in a certain light possess an allure that would earn him a second and maybe even a third glance from many in the female fraternity. Whenever they would come into various Supply Depot to restock on the necessities, he certainly had more then his fair share giggling admirers. At the beginning of their 'association' she used to tease him about it. But it didn't take long for her to stop this practice as it was clear that there was something about this unwanted attention that stirred some troubling memory for him.

In her judgment some men scrubbed up better dressed in fatigues then penguin suits and Alex was certainly one of the former and not the later. Infact his 'sweaty-musk' was a greater aphrodisiac to her then any high-lined cologne she had ever sampled. And she had to admit that his eye-patch, the tiny scar across his upper lip and the way his hair whipped about when it was windy, he had a tendency to cut a very dashing figure.

On the far wall of the stable the telephone connecting itself to the main house screeched too life. With regret she patted the side of her steed and left his cubicle, fastening the door behind her. Swiftly she picked up the receiver and was met by the crisp and alert voice of her faithful Man-Servant, Henry.

_Good Morning, Lara._

"Morning, Henry. Did you sleep well?"

_Yes, very well, thank you. Just to inform you that for breakfast this morning I am preparing poached egg with side of bacon. If you are capable of providing me of an ETA of your return to the Manor House I can …_

Lara looked about the stables, seeing what tasks needed to be completed before she could adjourn back to the Main House. "Of course. I've finish here now; after I have placed the saddle and bridle away and secured the stable I should be back in 10 to 15 give or take a couple of minutes."

_Excellent, I'll start brewing the tea then. And FYI, our American Guest's are already up and about._

Lady Croft's eyebrow arched slightly. "Really? I figured them to be the sleep-in types. Did they say whether the room was to their satisfaction? I hope they slept well, I always find a strange bed to be an unsettling experience."

_There was a brief hesitation before the butler offered an answer, and as always Henry offered the most diplomatic of responses. To be honest I'm not completely certain. I did enquire into the nature of their rest, but all I received was a very cryptic reply from the elder sister saying 'Like I didn't already know'. Most peculiar._

An amused smile stretched across the luscious bee-stung lips of the aristocrat. "Ahh. I think I understand. I suspect our guest's must have thought we would be as rude and low as to have them under night-time surveillance, Henry."

_Night time surveillance? Inexcusable how these Colonial's mind's think. That we wouldn't have better things to do with our time other then to observe them resting. We're not *French*!_

"Ah-ah, Henry, it's too early in the morning to be stirring up the old English verses French rivalry, so none of that. Even so with our minor *and* collective outrage as Host's aside, how are they both? Refreshed and rejuvenated I hope?"

_I believe so. They have told me they have both had the opportunity to shower prior to coming downstairs. Considering they seemed to believe they were being spied upon, quite brave under the circumstances._

"That, or possibly they are both a pair of exhibitionists' who perhaps thought they were giving either yourself or Bryce a thrill. You can never tell with Californian's."

_At any rate, I have assured them that I will transport them back to Oxford and London respectively after their morning breakfast if that suits them, and they have told me it does. But they do not intend to leave until they have had the opportunity of speak to yourself, Lady Croft. And I fear it has nothing to do with being the gracious Host._

Lara released a small bark of laughter at hearing what her faithful man-servant had relayed. "Are you telling me that I am being *summoned*? ME? That before they bother to leave my Manor Home, that they expect me to make myself available to them?"

_Err. Yes, Lady Croft. That was the impression I received._

"I don't know whether I should be offended at their audacity or whether I should admire their gall?"

_Regardless, Lara, they both made it clear they were very, *very* eager to speak with you. Especially the elder. And again I feel I must prepare you, but she was not at all impressed when I informed her that you were out at the time of her enquiry 'riding the grounds'._

"Really?"

_Yes, I suspect from the whispered comments she made to her sister proceeding her request that she has decided, as the American's say, to 'Call you out' on the previous night's revelations._

"Well, I must say, it certainly does sound like the Wizard stopped in and delivered our guests a dose of Courage. About time. Last night was such a disappointment, not that I was expecting a food fight in the Main Dining Room mind you. Dawn is such a sweet thing and Buffy, well, it was pretty clear she was trying very hard to stay on her best behaviour. So despite a few 'honest' moments, I don't think I really got the chance to see who they really were behind the polite-masks they were both wearing for my benefit."

_I have to agree, though I found Ms Dawn to be a positively charming young lady, she was making too much of an effort to be 'inoffensive'. I also noticed as I was serving dinner that Ms Buffy's mind seem quite distracted and not at all in the 'here-and-now'. A trait I also noted as I was driving her in last evening. She was looking out the window of the vehicle, but I truly doubt she was taking anything really in._

"Well, if what her sister told me last night can be relied upon, I suspect the Slayer's mind was straying into thought's of my Alexander, so please do not place that dejected look of hers to fears that your gravy last evening wasn't up to it's usual snuff."

_Ahem. That Dinner was five-stars, six if you are willing to indulge the fact that I provided you and your guest's fresh strawberries when *strawberries* are presently out of season!_

"Tut-tut, Henry. I was only teasing. It was splendid, as always. But that now leaves us in a predicament. The Slayer. We have no idea what her boundaries are? When does 'Buffy' start handing more control of herself and her actions over to the Slayer part of herself? Failing that question, is she able to manage herself at all? If I am to utilise the Chosen One in my upcoming adventure, I need to know the extent of self control Buffy possesses. My Forefather's Journal was quite specific, the longer the Slayer Spirit remained housed in its vessel the more the Chosen One and the Spirit's personality meshed with one another. And it is my understanding that with exception of … 'the other one', that Buffy Summer's is one of the longest serving in Watcher History. So I think it would be prudent to understand what Buffy's limits are, don't you?"

_I see. Of course. Well, if we need to know her limitations then I believe the only recourse, under the circumstances, is to provoke and antagonise her in the most extreme way. But, Lara is that entirely wise? She has fought some challenging opponents in the past._

"So have I. But unlike her I have done so alone and without the level of support she has received."

_That maybe true, but she has laid-low a God. An actual *God*, Lara._

"And I have successfully buried three-God-like-Beings, Henry." Lara raked her hand through her tangled and luscious hair, allowing a moment to pass before she readdressed her ever reliable man-servant's concerns. "Look, it's sweet that you are worried for me, but don't be. I'm not planning on turning this into World War Three. Besides, she maybe a Slayer, but she's nothing special. She can be hurt and killed. And she has died *twice* already."

_Exactly. And comeback to life._

"Yes, granted, she's indeed formidable even in the face of Death. But that does not mean she is unstoppable. Slayers are just more hardy then ordinary people. If it comes down to fist-cuffs it will be a simple case of skill verses experience."

_Really? Which one will you be?_

"Alex said that every Slayer possesses the same weakness and it's that weakness that always gets them either hurt or dead."

_And what, may I ask, weakness is that?_

"Over-Confidence. Over-Confidence in that regardless of any opponent they may face, that they perceive themselves as the better fighter."

_Pardon me for saying this, Lara, but isn't that *your* shortcoming as well?_

"Yes, but the difference is that I already know this. And as Sun Tzu loosely said, know yourself and know your enemy and a hundred battles are already won. I know my weakness and strength, as well as hers. So I have the home field advantage."

_I'm sorry, Lara, it's just given your present condition I would much prefer it if you did not place yourself in any jeopardy. One sound blow to your stomach from a woman with her strength and … and I think any plan on your part to intentionally rile her would prove to be a grave error._

Even though she knew Henry could not see her, she surrendered a grateful and serine smile at the depths of his worry for both her and her unborn child. "To be honest, Henry, given what you have already said, I suspect that *she* will be the one who will be trying to antagonise *me*. Like a yapping Terrier, I fear I will have to swat her nose with a rolled up _Times Newspaper: Weekend Edition_, in order to get her to behave appropriately."

_But again I ask is such a 'swatting' truly necessary? Is there no other way we can accomplish this goal without placing your well-being at risk?_

"Necessary? Probably not. But it will be fun and I promise to be careful."

_Very well, if you feel obligated to do this damn rash thing, can I at least go on record and express my stern reservations towards this plan of action?_

"You may."

_And if in the event of the unthinkable happens and she fails to control her … Slayer Impulses, will her Ladyship be averse to receiving a 'I told you so' and immediately withdraw from the confrontation?_

"Have you no confidence in me, Henry?"

_In yourself? Limitless. In her? Very little I'm afraid._

"Very well. The moment I see blood-lust in her eyes I will excuse myself and consider the experiment as a failure."

_That's all I ask. Err, Lara, if she *does* fail, what should we do? Move onto the other candidate?_

"I … let's not count Buffy out just yet, she might surprise me. So I'd prefer it if we dismiss thinking of her 'replacement' as a viable option at present. Besides, she is supposed to be in New York City. To contact and arrange transport at this short notice might be a tad inconvenient, don't you think?" There was an uncomfortable pause on the other end of the line, one that Lara couldn't help but take note of and dread towards the implications.

Suddenly, and almost forcibly the middle-aged butler reacted, obviously realising the unintentional lapse in silence that had followed after his Mistress had finished speaking. _It's only a six-hour flight, barely a piddle. And looking at the larger picture, wouldn't it be better to have Ms Faith on-board as a resource if for no other reason then to confirm everything we learn from Ms Buffy as accurate? One Slayer on this expedition is a benefit, two would be …_

"…Tempting fate." Lara concluded Henry's sentence as her luscious eyelashes lowered over her eyes. Her grip tightening upon the receiver in her hand. "Faith Lehane has a history with Alex. One that I feel would not make her a sound fit for this expedition."

_Excuse me, Lady Croft, but can't the same be said for either Ms Dawn and Ms Buffy as well? Infact given on what we recently learned last evening, Ms Buffy's separation from Master Harris's life makes her a more problematic choice, wouldn't you think?_

Lara surrendered a soft exhale before joining her reliable man-servant in debate. "That maybe so, but the choice is still mine and I have made it. If Buffy proves herself reliable then I would want her to participate in this search. And what will happen, will happen."

Henry responded, his tone more firm then she had heard of him over the past several years. _That's the danger in mixing business with personal matter's, Lara. Sometimes you rarely get a choice. So what will take precedence? Finding the Tribal Ground of the fabled Amazon race or the successful seduction of Master Alexander?_

"What a poposterous question."

_I don't think so. The reality is that you have invested far more effort thus far into this little 'Honey-Trap' Project of yours then to the actual Operation itself. And if you don't mind me saying, but didn't Ms Faith once play a very significant role in the most memorable temptation of his life? So for you to overlook her now… *_

"She's a harlot, Henry."

_Granted, her history with men is quite colourful. The intelligence we have acquired suggests that she goes from one to another on whim and fancy. But her judgement, or rather lack thereof, is not one in which you can point the finger at and condemn. I recall more then one ill-suited latharo I have had to usher out of the Manor because you woke up with little or no recollection of what proceeded the night before activities. To designate her as a Harlot places your own sordid and youthful history in peril._

"Well she is, and a foolish one at that. Not that I'm truly complaining. Infact the reality is that I feel sorry for that piece of … of … oh dear." Lara caught herself before she started to descend to unflattering comparisons that she had always felt were very much beneath her. "I'm beginning to sound quite 'catty', aren't I?"

_Just a trifle._

"Well … it's deserved. Well, maybe not *exactly* deserved but certainly warranted. If she had more then two brain cells to rub together she would never have let a fish like Alex slip from her net."

_But she did, and Master Alexander moved on. In short Lara, she is no threat to you._

"Maybe. But it doesn't change the fact that if Alexander was to ever shift his affections to anyone I would want and hope that person be someone deserving of them. Myself, definitely. Dawn, possibly. Buffy … stranger things have happened. But that woman? No. Over my dead body, no! I would never allow him to debase himself once more and submit to some … some tramp who would look upon his love as only a temporary distraction. That, Henry, I will not permit to ever happen! Ms Lehane gives all the women who have had the opportunity to earn a small place in his heart a bad reputation by just the mere association. So I would be grateful if you do not mention her name to me ever again."

There was an awkward pause, one that's silence revealed the 'taken-aback' attitude of the middle-aged male. _I … see. Lady Croft, I have been in your employ for over 15-years. And I have learned never to question or doubt you, even when you are at your worst you are still better then any one person I have ever had the privilege to meet. But with all the extraordinary effort undertaken by yourself with respects towards this man, and given the pregnancy, it is becoming increasingly difficult for Bryce and myself to understand what makes him 'so special' to you. Though Bryce and I are in accord that in the few opportunities we have shared your adventures with him that he is acquitted himself quite well. Proving to be reliable, honest, courageous, amusing, clever. Certainly not the usual 'look at me the wrong way and I'll tear your eyes out' type of gentlemen that you used to hook up with. And despite Bryce's occasional Ghana nightmare, we both think him to be quite admirable. But these are our reason's, romantic rubbish aside, what are yours? To date you have never shared these thoughts with either of us. I realise it is not my place and I apologise in advance, but I have watched you grow into being the woman you are, and yes, I can certainly see elements existing in Master Harris that your late father would approve of. But *why* do you love him? I *need* to know!_

Lara paused for a moment, and considered her words carefully as well as their weight of them. Justifying her affections for Alex to Henry would be a great deal more difficult then 'Aunt Liz'. Henry, afterall knew her a lot better. It was true, neither Henry or Bryce had ever challenged her on this question before. So after offering a tranquil sigh into the receiver she spoke the words without any thought to their meaning.

"I'm not going to try and explain it to you, Henry. Because the truth is I can't. All I can say is that the more I learned about him the more I wanted to know, and the more I knew the happier I became. From the very first moment we met I got some sense that he knew me, the real me. I was just Lara to him. Not Lara Croft or Lady Croft, to him I wasn't even 'The Tomb Raider'. It was like I was being seen for the very first time in my entire life. Seen and not judged. Not leered at, or being pidgin holed as a Poor-little-Rich Girl who was overcompensating for the fact that her Daddy had been burdened with a daughter instead of a son.

"Every man who has ever been in my life has always seen what they wanted, and to be honest Henry, I have always let them. Because their various preconceptions of me always gave me an advantage. But with Alex? He sees me, Henry. All of me. From the start there was a strange attraction there, and eventually we began to 'dance' around one-another. I teased, he flirted. But at no point did I believe I was ever getting the upper hand in our compitition. He dodged every Parry and visa versa. It was like we were in perfect and beautiful synch with the other. After a while I just stopped trying to be 'better' then everybody else and just started to be just 'me'."

_I understand … actually no I don't. You love him because he is able to … *see* you? I'm sorry, but that makes no sense, Lara._

"I can't think of any other way to describe it, Henry. I can be myself around him. I don't have to put on any guise, like being Ms _'never a single hair out of place'_ Perfection. When I'm with him I feel that I can be permitted to make the odd small mistake and not let the 'trademark' down. When I'm with Alex, I'm … free. Free of everything. My title, my family history, the hardships and the endless dangers. That and the fact that he is without doubt the most amazing lover I have ever had in my entire life."

_Ahem. I think we should classify that last comment as an 'over-share'._

"Well, you were the one who wished to delve deeper."

_Yes, that I suppose is true. And I am very much grateful that you have opened up to me on these feelings. But I am still very much confused, on one hand you profess a love for the man and on the other you wish to subject him to various enticements that would have him be lead astray from you. Yet the one person who has the physical history to challenge his fidelity the most is also the one person you seem to possess the most resentment for._

"* Very well, if you wish to know the truth I'll tell you. I don't like Faith Lehane because several years ago she tried to kill him."

_W...what? How come I wasn't told?_

"Because Henry, sometimes things must remain private. And oddly enough attempted murder by a former lover can rate pretty high and be a pretty sensitive subject. Believe me, I'm a bit of an expert."

_Oh dear._

Lara pondered these last two startled words that had exited her long-time confidant's mouth. Allowing seconds to tick by before her own lips parted anew to confront what she was now suspecting and hoping she was indeed wrong. "Please tell me you haven't overstepped your duties and superseded my prerogative with your own?"

There was a pause. A frighteningly long pause before a single word reply could be heard. _I only wish I could._

The top of Lara's lip twitched and curled slightly into a small snarl. She wanted to scream out a tie-raid of un-lady like curses, the kind that could peel paint from the wall. Henry had never done something like this before. He had never intentionally undermined or second guessed her to this scale. And every fibre of her needed to know why! Forcing her voice to remain calm, she attempted to carry on the discussion as though she had not just been wounded by one of the few people she trusted in all the world. "May I enquire into what temporary measure of insanity possessed you to think her inclusion in this expedition would *ever* be joyously accepted by me?"

Softly and very meekly the middle-age British man responded. _Certainly, Lady Croft. Last night when you told me of your theory surrounding the possible and shared affections of both Ms and Ms Summer's for Master Harris. I was, as you know, very much surprised and then you chose to drop the bombshell regarding her Majesty's dictates. That she had demanded you arrange this … elaborate affair. Well, that just didn't add up in my mind. So after you retired to bed for the night and after several more samples of whiskey I chose to mull over why this might be. The answer did not fill me with too much pleasure._

"How do you mean?"

_Because, Lara, regardless of whether Master Harris continued on with his association with you or chose to pursue one of the other ladies, you have already made the decision to have his child. That in itself would be a scandal, infact it would be an even greater one. So why does her Majesty wish you to challenge his love and loyalty to you?_

"And your answer to solving this sensitive issue was to contact that Jezebel?"

_Actually, no. I contacted Faith Lehane because of her sexual history with Master Harris. After which I invited her on your behalf to join the expedition. But I did so for the worthiest of motives and not for the reason's you believe._

"Then why?"

There was a slight pause, one that offered thoughts to the female that Henry was not trying to manufacture a lie but rather to politely choose his words. _I did so, I regret, for the sole purpose to intimidate both sister's efforts in making any attempt to approach Master Harris with regards to romance._

Lara was left momentarily speechless at this revelation, so she allowed Henry to continue with his explanation uninterrupted.

_Both women would be very much aware of her 'special' history with him and that, I thought, might make them both a little self-conscious on approaching Master Harris, especially if Ms Lehane was present. As I understand her character she is extraordinarily extravert and lacking in any shame where her sexuality is concerned. For two women timid in their desire of romance with Master Harris such a witness to their efforts would be a preoccupation. I also thought her involvement in the expedition would also offer you the opportunity to truthfully notify her Royal Highness that you presented Master Harris with not one but three very tempting alternatives, and with no interference on your part, but the outcome was that …. _Henry trailed off, and the fury Lara had felt just seconds earlier also died away. To think that she had someone so precious and loyal looking out for her and that he would go to such lengths to help her 'win' this gambit. She felt shameful for her earlier anger towards the middle-aged Englishman.

Unabated with a lack of interruption, Henry, proceeded with his explanation, rationale and suspicions. _After all, if I could see this singular romantic discrepancy then so would her Royal Majesty. Do not think for a moment that she's some addled old dearie, Lara. She's got a mind like a spring trap. And there is something, I fear, about Master Harris that she knows and we don't which is why I suspect she wants you to 'test' him and his loyalty to you. If he stays faithful then you and he will have the full support of the Palace._

"What do you mean she knows 'something'?"

_I mean Lara, that this is the first time in your life that she has ever stepped in where your suitor's are involved, so to my mind it appears that her Majesty has taken a great deal of interest in your 'husband'. Something unprecedented. After all when has she *ever* done that with any of your other assorted Lover's?_

Silence followed for a moment before the man-servant continued. _Your preferences, Lara, for good or bad are very well publicized in the Fleet Street Rags. The assorted headline 'Conquests' attributed to you include Royal Marine Deserter's, Megalomaniac's, Mercenaries and disreputable art dealers. And in that impressive rogues galley line-up has she ever so much as batted an eye or picked up the telephone to ask you to curb your wilder tendencies? Yet with Master Harris she wants you to test his devotion to you. You don't think for one moment that this singular instance more then a bit odd?_

"Are you saying you think he's been lying to me?"

_No, this I believe has nothing to do with 'who' Master Harris is. Windsor has some of the best PR professionals in the world next to the White House. This, I fear, isn't reflective with Master Harris as a person, as his adventures and exploits could easily counter any personal short comings possessed by the young gentleman. No, I fear this has to do with something a lot older. Something that even their best 'Spin' experts would not be able to sell._

"His mother and father possibly?"

_No Lara, this would have nothing to do with them. As disreputable as they maybe, Master Harris, has never concealed their short-comings from yourself. This would be something in which if gotten out there would be no manner of positive-spin which could be utilised to make him come out smelling like roses and the Palace want to know whether he is worthy of whatever loyalty they would be expected to show on his and your behalf._

More silence followed on Lara's end of the telephone line. How could she have not seen this? Where Palace Politics were concerned she always judged herself as a cut-above the norm, but in this instance she had allowed the obvious to fly over her head without offering a single thought to the whys-and-wherefores.

Deciphering his mistress's silence correctly, the loyal man-servant offered his reassurances. _You should not hold yourself responsible for failing to see what others had, Lady Croft. You have had a great deal on your plate and your pre-occupation has not been one that required focus on anything else but your own mediate circumstances._

"It doesn't change the fact that usually I am more alert towards the 'unexpected'. But didn't Bryce already do a background search on Alexander? What did the Palace find out that he didn't?"

_In fairness, Bryce only investigated Master Harris's financial affairs, criminal record as well as his immediate family going back two-generations. Anything beyond those 50-years and the computer records become a bit sketchy and harder to find. This means that he never pursued the 'Old School' method and actually ventured into a Library or any other building. Everything was done from his laptop. I suspect that Windsor were far more efficient then he._

"Which means it is likely, if they found something of exceptional concern; regarding Alexander they would take pains to cover such things up?"

_No, I doubt that, Lara. They would make it harder to access, but not to find._

Lady Croft sighed deeply. "It still does not change my heart, Henry. Whatever foul deed that might be associated to Alex, I still love him. But as the saying goes, fore warned is fore armed. While I'm away have Bryce kick it up a notch and have him do a proper investigation. Get him to wear the rubber-tred off those sneakers of his."

_Of coarse._

"And on to the matter of Faith …"

_I stand ready for rebuking, Lady Croft, but I stand resolute in my impulsive decision. If everything worked out the way you hoped it would and you wedded your Prince Charming, there would always be that small voice in the back of your mind telling you that you only got him by 'default'._

"That might be … true, but how did you enact on this so quickly?"

_After I finished my seventh snifter of whiskey I went to Bryce's caravan and woke him up. He then hacked into the Watcher Council, breached a dozen high-tech Firewalls and then we gained access to the Slayer's Personal Files. After that it was a simple case of telephoning her up, misrepresenting myself as a member of the Council and organising the first available flight to Heathrow. Which should be landing in five-hours, just enough time for me to collect her after I return Ms Buffy to her Hotel._

"And what if she objects when she finds out we aren't from the Council?"

_That is why Bryce organised an Open First Class Ticket. If she resents the idea of going on an adventure with yourself, Ms Dawn and Ms Buffy with the objective of discovering their origin point and learning more about the Slayer's History. She can turn around, hop on that plane and fly back to New York. No harm, no foul, as the American's say._

Lara was far from happy, and even though she could see why Henry did what he did, it didn't mean she had to like it. But arguing down a telephone line on something she now had very little control of was pointless; after all, Faith was already in the air and less then several hours from landing in England. She and Henry would talk about this matter further later, and very much face-to-face. "Very well. Back onto the original subject, what is happening with our guests?"

_I have placed the pair in Sun Room and they are at present having their breakfast._

"Excellent. Now Henry, would you be a darling and please set up an extra place at their table for me to join them when I get in?"

_Certainly. Lara, again I'm sorry if you think I over stepped my bounds with Ms Faith, but*_

"Henry, please, at the moment that issue is all 'spilt milk'. What's done is done. It's funny; before you called I was in the process of congratulating myself on how well I was dealing with finding out that Buffy may have feelings for Alex. And now you tell me you and Bryce did this without my approval. I should be angry and gutted. But your right, I promised Aunt Liz that I would ensure Alexander was not one of those American Gold-Digger's and my love for him wasn't something based in either adrenaline or excitement. That it was real. A romance that could weather the worst of what the world could through at us. Sure, having Faith along might make things a little bit cramped in the Land Rover, but it will also make things all the more interesting as well."


	6. Chapter 6

Twelve minutes after she had hung up the telephone in the Croft Stable's, the Lady of the Manor walked casually through the parlour. Her boots falling softly and quietly upon the marble tiled surface as she entered the room her guests were using as a venue for their morning meal. Without pausing to address either young woman, Lady Croft sat down at the prepared place between both parties, draping a napkin over her lap in a fluid sweep that seemed more natural to her then breathing. Her presentation was immaculate and did not at all betray someone who had awoke before the sparrows and had spent the past two-hours in the company of a large quadruped.

The unannounced, sudden and near silent arrival caught both Slayer and Academic by surprise causing them to hastily swallow what was in their mouths. Dawn was first to offer the elder of the group her acknowledgements and she did so with an awkward nod and nervous smile. Earning for her a nod and a smile in return. The blonder sister, however, chose to wait until her food had successfully cleared her mouth on its journey to her stomach before surrendering an address to their shared host.

Buffy firmly placed her utensils upon the table, giving off an exaggerated rattle on the high-end porcelain plates to which she was dining off of. The abrupt 'cling-clanging' that met this disrespectful gesture caused Lara to unintentionally wince, but remain quiet to the affront it had caused her at hearing it. The Slayer composed herself and chose to await the high-born's face to retreat back towards its 'normal' features and receive her acknowledgement before speaking. Lara's sideway and annoyed glace at her was, she believed, as good of a que as any.

"Your man, _Jeeves_, told us you were out on Black Beauty, galloping around your estate. Is that normal for you 'silver-spoon' types? To get up at the crack of dawn and leaving guests to wonder where their esteemed host have run off to?"

Lara's eyebrow arched in an annoyed fashion to the Slayer's caustic delivery. From what Henry told her on the phone she had suspected Buffy would try and provoke her from the get-go. But she wasn't expecting it to be so blunted and '_ordinary'_. Not even five seconds and she has already gotten under my skin. Well done, Miss Summers.

The Tomb Raider took a second to draw in a cleansing breath, considering her course. If this was the best Buffy could accomplish then she feared they would be here all morning. Fortunately, or rather _un_-fortunately, the Slayer had unknowingly provided her with a 'in'. One that could be used to fan a flame. After all, for anyone who knew Lara Croft – *REALLY* knew her, they would know there was only one 'taboo' in her presence. One sure way for a person to glimpse her rarely seen darker side. And that was to diminish the value and worth of any of her 'people'. And nothing showed a greater disrespect, as far as she was concerned, then to intentionally misname another. True enough, if it was an accident, done in jest, to tease, or if the other person was game to the joke then that would be deemed excusable in her book. But to do so purposefully as a means of eliciting contempt, or because that person in question could not even bother to offer the other the simple civility to commit the other's name to their memory? Well, too her that was not only rude but it was also unpardonable. In this instance, she feared that Buffy was intentionally degrading her oldest living confidant. And that was very much like a red-rag to a Bull.

Levelling her full and undivided attention in Buffy's direction, the Tomb Raider met the Slayer's intimidating glare with her own gaze. The adventurer's smouldering orbs of caramel perfection infiltrated the chilly aqua dominance that the blonde had been trying to establish upon the High-born.

It was an age old and childish gamble of one-upmanship. A war of wills, one that Lara felt assured that once the 'battle' was met that she would emerge victorious from the encounter. For though it might be true that Buffy Anne Summers had stood eye-to-eye with Demon's, Vampire's and other outlandish manner of Monster's in her strange and intriguing life. It was doubtful that she ever had to stare down the drunken advances of lecherous, entitled and self-congratulating Trust-Fund Playboy's for most of her adolescent and adult life.

The various Beasts' that the Slayer had encountered would gain a sense of thrill and power out of effortlessly provoking fear and intimidation in its prey. So their reactions, when they came across a human who would reflect that same look back at them would be to quickly fold in confusion. This had probably warped Buffy's opinion of her 20-yard glare to the point where she thought herself quite formidable. Sadly, however, on this Tuesday morn the Slayer would learn that in this unique arena of '_intimate-intimidation_' there was no one equal in all of Europe to that of Lady Lara Croft.

Well, that was a lie. There was ONE equal. One man. And on the rare occasions whenever they did find themselves facing off against each other, any personal thoughts of supremacy and domination would be quickly forgotten by them both in hasty favour of ripping the other's clothes from their body. Damn that bloody eye-patch of his and that perfect smirking smile. Damn the way he always intentionally stops shaving a week before he knew she is coming to visit him, all because he knows that seeing him with a rough manly stubble made her knees fold.

Yes sir. Her 'Man' knew exactly what rabbit to pull out of his hat to make her forget her anger and to submit to his desires, and admittedly, to her own desires as well. There were even times when she thought he would start an argument just so they could move on to a healthy dose of _Make-Up Sex_ five-minutes after the first exchange of harsh words. In fact, her current 'condition', she suspected, was a result of just such a bout of conflict.

Lara halted her pleasant ponderings and began to quickly reflect on the moment. She could broke no losses towards supplanting Buffy. This was now a matter of pride more then anything else, this American Up-start needed to learn her place towards manner's, especially manner's involving insulting the people she cared about. This subtle battlefield was HER domain. And her life-experience of dealing with the privileged Jet Set and other various God's Gift's had bred in the female-aristocrat an adversary the likes the Slayer had probably never before faced. In comparison to the world of the ego-driven 'Beautiful People' which Lara found herself regularly forced to associate with during Charity Events, Buffy: the Vampire Slayer's 'petulant-look', only exposed herself as being that of a baby who hadn't as yet found her feet.

For the Tomb Raider it was an easy and practiced thing to dismantle the entitled-arrogance of the Privileged-Set with only a glance. It was a skill she had to nurture early in her life given the various unwanted attentions she received, coincidently, at the same time she started to 'develop' as a woman. The various leer's and the offensive looks that were directed towards her by men twice her age and women desperately trying to hang on to their youth. She could not recall the number of 'well-meaning-friends' who tried to take her under their wing when they realised that she had no official Guardian and was the sole Heir to the famed Croft Fortune. She was thought by many to be a fragile lamb amongst a Pride of ravenous Lion's. And in that boy's-only environment she had to make herself grow-up quickly and become equally quick witted or run the risk of being taken advantage of and fugitively, if not literally, eaten alive.

She learned, during those awkward adolescent years, that to meet chilly-glare for chilly-glare rarely ever earned either participant any advantage in battles of social dominance. And such mistakes like these were generally ones only made by fools or novices, and she was now neither. In these chosen instances and encounters, the Tomb Raider used what God and his Angel's above had blessed her with - her sexuality. And if there was anything she was MORE then confident on it was her sexual-appeal. True, some might call this 'confidence' in her own _lustful-allure_ conceitful and an 'arrogance' all it's own and maybe on some level it was. But she had discovered over the past one and a half decades that this attribute was also the greatest weapon she possessed in her arsenal. A weapon that could be effortlessly turned on any opponent, whether her intended target was man or woman, young or old, straight or 'bent'. She knew that a few well placed suggestive phrases, accompanied with a long enough smouldering-and-a-highly-sexually-charged-gaze at her quarry, that it would always unnerve her prey and allow her to then gain whatever advantage was sought.

In this particular circumstance it took mere seconds for the Tomb Raider to begin to acquire the upper hand and seize the lead. Countering the Chosen One's cold glare with her sultry one.

Under the administrations of her Host's eyes, the Slayer's righteousness began to momentarily dissolve away. Causing Buffy Summer's to awkwardly and timidly break eye contact with the other. As Buffy broke away she momentarily lost all reason to why she was even angry at the other. The provocativeness of Croft's 'look' sending a tingle through her spine.

Gaining some small pleasure at the glazed frenzy and alarm that was now being portrayed in the Slayer's eyes, Lara leaned forward slightly, offering a small and oppressive smile before allowing her full lips to part. "I probably should have made this rule very clear last night when we first met, Buffy. It is a simple tenet and it is the only one I hold in my house. I don't care if you accidentally set fire to one of the Monet's; I don't care if you take the Bugatti Veyron for a spin and then drive it off a cliff. I don't care if you blow-up the East Wing. That's why I pay the exorbitant insurance premiums that I do. You even have free-reign to do what Sir Keith Richard's did four-years ago and if the mood takes you you may relieve yourself on the potted ficus in the Main Hall. Heaven's, you can do *all* these four things and I assure you that as you are my respected guest not a single word of offence or anger will pass my lips, though to honest I would much prefer it if you didn't.

"But there is one and only one rule that everyone who crosses the threshold must abide by, myself included, and that is that in my Home we treat everybody with respect. And absolutely no-one is above that rule, not even the Queen-Mother. You can lay thick your snippy attitude to whom ever passes your way when you leave my gates. But whilst you are a visitor in my home you will conduct yourself accordingly to this single and very simple principle, as it will be conducted equally to yourself. Do we have an understanding?"

Buffy Summer's did not answer, but her silence spoke volumes towards her acceptance of the warning.

"Now before we move off this distasteful subject and proceed further to matters I am sure you are anxious to discuss with me. I want you to also know of one very important thing, *Henry*, has more class and refinement in a week-old toe-nail clipping then any of us have in our entire body. He has a name. Commit it to memory and use it. And use it respectfully. It's not _Jeeves_, or _Snevley_ or any other clichéd Butler-name you may have witnessed in the funny-papers, your American sit-coms, or Hollywood Movies. His name is Henry. If I ever, and I mean this sincerely Buffy, if I *ever* have to correct you again or hear you demean or speak cruelly towards his efforts to do his tasks with the professionalism I have come to anticipate from him, then I assure you, I will make it my priority in this life to have you regret it."

"Is that some kind of a threat?"

"Yes it is and believe you me it's not a worn-out one either. You see you have just made the mistake of singling out one of few people who matter most to me in this World. Henry might come across as _'stuffy and starched'_, but that is only because you do not have, as yet, the privilege to know him better. His wit and dry delivery is beyond compare and I value him immensely. He looks out for me and my happiness even without the asking. Such a man is a treasure and I value him as such. I wonder how many men you have in your life who would just as selflessly look out for you and your best interest, Buffy? Can you name one? Because I am certain if you could you wouldn't be single at this very moment, would you."

The Vampire Slayer stiffen in her chair. The last thing she wanted was to be either corrected or reminded of any lost opportunities of happiness. Her mind automatically and briefly linked itself to memories of Xander and it was all she could do to maintain her composure and not blush or scream out in frustration. For the last several days, nearly every small and subtle reference always kept leading back to him. But if she was to be completely honest with herself, her thoughts started to become consumed with Xander the moment she first heard about the machete attack two-months ago. But whereas with those impressions she was consumed with both guilt and fear, in the last twelve hours, whatever panicky concerns she possessed had now been replaced by emotions that ran in the exact opposite direction.

She had spent all of last night awake, listening as her sister slept in the bed beside her, forcing her mind to replay all the moments she had shared with him. Not the scary ones or the ones in which she found herself worrying about his well-being. But the good and happy ones. The ones that made her laugh. The ones that made her glad to be alive. The ones that made her 'Buffy' and not 'The Slayer'. She was ashamed to admit this, even if it was just to herself, but every truly happy moment she possessed, even if she was struggling with pain and doubt, he was always there. Not Giles, not Angel or Riley or Spike. Not her mother, Willow or even Dawn. It was always him. Xander had done more then just being her friend, because no friend, 'best' or otherwise, would have put up with the crap that she used to pile on to his shoulders. In fact the more she kept thinking about him and the struggles they had both faced together in the past, the more everything seemed 'right'. He could have been, quite simply, the best thing in her life. But a stupid Pact-Agreement between her and Willow when they first became friends had automatically made him a 'look-but-don't-touch' issue. And now, if Croft was right and the Slayer-Spirit manipulated her and diverted her attention elsewhere, then … No! She refused to believe that all was as lost with Xander as she believed. They may never be what they could have been destined to be, but she would not give up on the friendship that was once so strong.

Lara leaned back in her chair, but refused to take her eyes off the Slayer. A curious expression crossing the brunette's features as a decidedly focused and determined look began to morph upon the face of the blonde. The Raider could only imagine what thoughts were now running rampant through the Slayer's head, but she was not willing to lose the upper hand. "I am quite sure you have heard, or may have even claimed to others that there are people whom you would willingly die for, yes? Well, Buffy, Henry is someone who I would not only die for but also willingly *kill* for. As that old joke goes: _'A friend will help you hide an affair. A GOOD friend will help you hide a body.'_ Despite whatever thoughts you may have towards the functioning relationship of me and my staff, I would like to advise you that though I consider myself their employer, I also consider myself as being to each of them a very, very *good* friend. That and I also happen to own an Estate with a sizable parcel of land to hide whatever bodies might happen to pile up in my assorted efforts and enthusiasm to prove that friendship to them. Do we understand each other?"

The Ladyship's delivery to the Slayer was evenly spoken and without any timbre in her tone that would betray she was at all uncertain too her own words or that she was bluffing. Because the truth of the matter is she wasn't. She would crawl through fire and broken glass, prepared to risk damnation itself for the people she cared about and she felt she needed to emphasis this small fact to the Slayer if she was to be ever taken seriously by the miniscule blonde.

Buffy slowly nodded her understanding, casting her eyes out through the large window in front of her. Her mind imagining just how many people could be safely and VERY easily buried on the great expanse of property for no one to ever know, see, or hear of ever again. There was obviously more to Lara Croft then Dawn's exaggerated stories. Stories that prior to this moment she had believed to be embellished and impossible to believe. But now? Now she had doubts. In that brief ten-second exchange she witnessed a fierceness in the brunette. An almost feral-resolve. One that stirred in Buffy a fragment of a near ancient memory.

A memory that unnerved her to the very core.

She hadn't felt this 'intensity' from another person since she and Faith had squared off with one another at the other's Apartment several years earlier. Back when the then Benedict Arnold of the Scooby Gang had chosen to play henchwoman and go-to-assassin-gal for Mayor McSnake. There was a primal energy being exchanged between the two, herself and Croft, one that was more then just a contest of wills or some childish dare of 'chicken'. This, it seemed to her, was a challenge on a visceral level. A restrained provocation was being directed for her to try and take what the other had. Something precious and something Buffy was almost certain of, that Lady Croft, was not willing to give up without a fight. And if her Slayer, as well as woman's intuition had anything to say, whatever this object was it was a pretty major 'thing' at that. The petty argument created over 'remembering' Henry's name was obviously just camouflage for something else. Something that was brewing unsaid, and presently unknown.

Ever since the discoveries of the previous night the Slayer suspected, despite her impeccable need to prove to be a gentile Host, that Croft was concealing something. Some extra bit of info or other secret. After all you don't invite strangers into your home and drop that kind of bombshell. You *never* lay all your cards out on the table with your first hand, at least that was her experience. You always kept an Ace or a King hidden from show until you knew what the other player had. And Buffy had to conclude that whatever this 'Ace' was it was indeed something very personal to the Tomb Raider if her Slayer-Sense was any indication. And in this withholding, Buffy saw her host's Achilles heel. A vulnerability.

Buffy slowly drew her eyes across the table, avoiding the aristocrat, to lock sight with her younger sister. A sister who was trying to unsubtly direct her to amp-down from the whole _'I am the Law'_ routine. Buffy's first thought was towards the oddity of this direction, especially considering It had been planned by the pair prior to coming down for breakfast on a steamed mirror in their bathroom, that she was to intentionally _'bait'_ the so-called Lady of the Manor. The objective was a simple one, to provoke Croft to the point where she would lose her temper so they might get the chance to see the true-face behind all the manners and etiquette. But obviously, Lara Croft, was someone who did not lose control of herself often, either that or she was trying to mirror their strategy and 'bait' them. Yet if Croft was trying to turn the tables and get a rise out of them, the question of the hour would be 'why'? The Slayer suspected that if this was so then all would be revealed in time, she just hoped it would not be something that would bite either of them on the ass when that moment arrived. If Lady Lara Croft could keep her cool, the blonde Slayer believed she could certainly match her.

Understanding that Dawn knew the Tomb Raider's reputation far better then herself, the elder sister complied with the youngest direction. She returned a small and almost unnoticed nod, choosing to look contrite to the gentle rebuke that had just been delivered. Allowing her sister to now take over their cause, hoping one way or another that some reliable answers can be gained.

Dawn cleared her throat and gently introduced herself into the conversation. It was, on her part, an inflated attempt to try and identify herself as a 'Peacemaker'. A role she had hoped would enable her to keep the conversation progressing forward in a direction of her choosing, whilst at the same time to also establish herself as being separate of her sister's aggressiveness.

"I have to apologise on Buffy's behalf, Lady Croft, she has long suffered from the dreaded affliction of _speaking-before-thinking_…"

Buffy's 'contrite expression' was momentarily lost as she imagined mental daggers being flung at her little sister from across the table. No doubt about it, at some point down the track she was going to make her pay for that remark as only a big sister could.

"…Fortunately it only affect's the first-borns in the Summer's bloodline. Henry's been truly wonderful, and this breakfast is positively amazing."

Lara now turned her attention to the younger sister and offered her fresh target a warm smile. But despite the warmth she tried to generate, she was still very much on guard of what new stratagem was now being played out by the pair. "I will make sure he knows that at least 'one' of you is able to appreciate the effort he puts in."

Lara allowed her affirmation to settle on both her guest's ears as she herself reassessed this new strategy. Last night, Dawn, though expressing frustration and annoyance towards her big-sister's ignorance, certainly wasn't rude or insulting in doing so. What the younger had just said went completely against character, at least the character the seasoned adventurer had created for the younger in her mind. But that was fine, if either Summer's wished to treat her like a fool then that would be a mistake they would have to live with later.

Lara straightened herself up in her seat as she continued to address the younger guest. "And I apologise for my own tone, I didn't mean to come off sounding harsh. But last night I had, at best, interrupted sleep and I fear this has prompted me to be a little bit short-of-temper." Lady Croft then looked remorsefully back at the Slayer, intending what she was planning to say next be directed to the blonde at her side. "But in saying this I also hope you both clearly understand that I see my staff as my 'family'. And as I said, I do not take kindly to those who disrespect my family."

The chestnut haired academic smiled politely and nodded her understanding. "Yes, there is nothing more important then family." The younger sister silently congratulated herself on how effortlessly she had defused a very tense situation between both women.

"Our mom died six years ago and our dad has been pretty much a no-show in both of our lives since they got divorced. The only family we both have are the people we have consciously introduced into it. Maybe they are not exactly blood-related, but they are still our family. And if anyone disrespected Willow, Giles or Xan around me, or for that matter Buffy, then you can expect some pretty strong words to be said. Maybe not so much from Buffy, she doesn't exactly have the same vocabulary as me."

Lara crocked her head to the side in curiosity, her eyes almost twinkling. "Xan? What an unusual name."

"Err, no. Xan is short for Xander."

"Oh! I see, you mean that man you spoke of last night don't you? Your … 'Heart'?" A knowing smile slid across her mouth as she teased the young Summer's.

The question startled Dawn, causing her to blush slightly. The young woman then offered her Ladyship an exaggerated and hasty nod, all awhile averting her eyes nervously from her sister. Meekly she answered. "Yeah. That's him. He's … yeah, well, he's not mine. He's *our* Heart. My family's heart."

The corner of Lara's lip then curled upwards in personal amusement at how uncomfortable the mere mention of 'Xander' and 'Heart' together made the young Oxford Student look as though she wanted to flee the room in embarrassment. Leaning to her side, to favour Buffy, Lara whispered loud enough for her words to carry across the table. "I think this mysterious gentleman friend of Dawn's might have some healthy competition, wouldn't you say, Buffy?"

There did not appear to be any cold menace in the claim, just playful teasing. But for what ever the reason, the Slayer felt as though she had just been patted the wrong way. In her mind it was as though the gorgeous brunette was making fun of the two people she valued most in the entire world. Her little sister and her best … friend (?)

"Yeah? And what if he does?" Buffy chimed back, with undeniable edge in her words. She might be a lot of things to a lot of people, but foremost she would always see herself as Dawn's protector, and she didn't like seeing someone … anyone, try and embarrass her. "If this new guy of hers is competition for Xander, then that means he's on par with him. And if that's the case then I couldn't be happier."

Lara straightened herself again and showed a cat-who-ate-the-canary smile to both her guest's. "My, my, my. To have this effect on two attractive young women, Xander, must be more then just a 'Heart'. I wonder if there are any other parts of him that are equally _impressive_?" The Tomb Raider then offer the pair a disarming chuckle at the crude- amusement of her own words.

That was it! At least as far as Buffy was concerned. Croft might be able to embarrass Dawn, but she was not going to allow the Aristocrat make fun of someone who wasn't there to defend themselves. Especially a guy who she was now starting to think could be the other piece of her soul. Slowly the Slayer stood up and placed her napkin across her now finished morning meal. With more of a growl then anything else, the Chosen One, answered. "Don't talk about Xander like that."

"Like what?"

"Like he's a Joke. Xander isn't a Joke. You want to talk smack about him, then you can expect to be smacked down by me in return."

Coolly, Lara, met the Slayer's eyes. Lara then allowed her vision to travel up and down the body of the blonde, assessing her stance and posture. There was no doubt that Buffy was primed to react, but there was definite control being enforced by the 'human-side' of Buffy Summer's over the Slayer-part of her. Still, she had believed that their little 'dance' would last a little longer before she would have gotten this reaction. As it stood it had lasted less then five-minutes. Still, she had learned what she needed too. Buffy had demonstrated near full control of her Slayer-self, either that or the Slayer Spirit had merged so effectively with her over the years of co-habitation that they had become close to being one solid entity. And if this was indeed true then Buffy was exactly who she needed to have with her on this expedition.

"Well?" Buffy demanded.

"Well, what?" Lara offered tiredly.

"Are you going to apologise?"

Lara turned her head away from the blonde and smiled again, like a parent who had just seen a child do something adorable. "If it will make you feel better, then of coarse. I apologise. Now you know exactly how I feel, Buffy."

Refusing to take her seat as she still felt the matter had not as yet been successfully resolved, the Slayer, remained standing. But her posture and rigidity became more relaxed. "Feel? Feel about what?"

"Henry, of coarse. Now you know how I felt when I heard you disrespecting, Henry. It's not a nice feeling, is it?"

At this point the man-servant in question, Henry, walked into the room with his usual style and grace. Pushing a cart that had on the top tray a hot plate with two poached eggs and three rashers of bacon to the side. Without being urged, the middle-aged Englishman proceeded to place the food, pour a steaming cup of tea to his Mistress's specifications and lay down the silver cutlery in front of Lara. He then added to the opposite side of the tea cup arrangement a freshly squeezed glass of orange juice, with pulp included.

After establishing the placement of the meal in front of his Mistress, the butler then began to clear the table of the completed meals of the two guest's. Receiving murmuring 'thank-you' from both sisters. Buffy, suddenly feeling very conspicuous towards being the only one standing as he tried to clear the table, slowly and humbly descended once more into her seat.

Dawn's breathing relaxed slightly at the Englishman's arrival, things were getting far to tense in the room for her liking. As a matter of curiosity, the young American watched the man-servant carefully and silently stack the two plates and cutlery on the lower shelf of his trolley. After the completion of these tasks he then placed a small separate plate beside the juice glass of Lady Croft. On the plate were three tablets and a capsule.

Lara noticed Dawn's interest in her morning medication. And in a quick velvety gesture she picked the offending items, placed them in her mouth and took a hasty sip of the juice in front of her to help wash them down. "Damn vitamin's. I'd rather not take them at all, but Henry would never let me get away with it. Last time I tried to avoid them he threatened to break them up and conceal them in my food, like I was some stubborn and ill family pet."

Dawn returned Lara's polite smile and chuckle as she glanced up at the now sour expression on the man-servants face. But despite the look on her face, the younger Summer's sister knew that there was something out of the ordinary with that morning regime of pharmaceuticals. She had seen one of the capsules and two of those tablets before. The tablets were Calcium and Folic Acid supplements. During her vacation period away from Oxford she would stay at Giles weekend cottage in the Catskills, his bathroom cabinet was full of the kind of medication you would expect from a person sailing on the far side of middle-age. One of these 'vitamins' was for osteoporosis and the other was a source of B9. The capsule was another she was more then familiar with, many first and second year Oxford students would take them around exam time especially if they were anxious towards their up-coming tests. The capsule helped combat nausea.

Dawn's mind started to work this problem through in a very 'Willow-type-manner'. _Why would a seemingly healthy young woman need to take supplements to boost her calcium and red-blood cells in the body? And what was she queasy over that she needed to take medication to starve it off?_ _If horseback-riding made her nauseous then why would she subject herself to it so early in the … morning? Morning … vomit… nausea … sickness … ?*_

"* OH MY GOD!" Dawn pounced up from the table, her eyes all but bulging out of her sockets and an overjoyed grin growing from ear to ear. Earlier this morning when she and Buffy were getting dressed her sister had told her about how Lara confided in her about a secret Tribal Wedding. She had to admit that she had been stunned by her sister's confession; she had followed the life and adventures of the 'Tomb Raider' ever since she moved to England and had never heard her Hero linked to anyone long-term enough to get hitched. In actuality, she confessed to herself, most of the guys Lara was reported to have associate with were all pretty shady, mercenary types. Not the kind you would ever try and build a future with. Sure, maybe a steamy weekend in Amsterdam, but nothing with white picketed fences.

Dawn, had prided herself in being an unrecognised authority of Croft's experiences and published adventures to an almost 'stalker' type degree. So for her to hear, from her sister no-less, that her 'Hero' was not only secretly married but also desperately pining for her 'husband' to participate in a legal ceremony as soon as possible, well, this did not compute. Where was the whole 'Strong, Independent, _I-am-woman-hear-me-kick-the-crap-out-of-any-guy-who-thinks-I-should-just-play-with-Barbies'_ Female that she revered? But now it all made sense. Lady Lara Croft, one of the most sought after bachelorette's in the World, was in the family way!

Both Lara and Buffy looked at the now standing Dawn Summer's as she tried to stutter out a sentence. Silently and in her mind, Dawn, started cursing Buffy for having such a big fat mouth. Her big sister had been offered this info in strict confidence and what did she do? Less then twelve-hours later she's sharing it with her baby sis. How could she now impress Lara with her deductive abilities without also revealing that Buffy had let the cat-out-of-the-bag with respects to her 'wedding secret'?

Lara was right when she warned Buffy the night before, the British Tabloid Press was merciless, and if they so much as got the scent of blood in the water they would not stop until lives were left in ruin. Just as long as they got a tasty story out of the carnage they caused. The only thing she could do now at this stage is pretend that she was 'out of the loop' and impress upon Buffy to keep her trap shut. Keeping this baby-discovery to herself and herself alone. At least until a chance presented itself when Lara might confide in her the same way she had with her older sister.

"Is something wrong, Ms. Summer's?"

Dawn swallowed her voice, doing her best to discount the farrowed brows of her host and her sister at her impulsive 'God' declaration. "I … I think I might have left one of the taps running in the bathroom upstairs, Henry. Sorry."

The Butler offered the younger sister a tight smile. "Do not worry yourself; I shall tend to it immediately." Then with as much grace and poise as he had entered the Sun Room, the man-servant departed the same way.

As soon as Henry had left earshot, Buffy chose to take advantage. "Okay, this has been nice and all. But there are a few things we need to hash out."

Lara chose not to look up from her meal as she stabbed the poached eggs with her knife. "Hash? How do you mean?"

"You know who I am?"

"Of coarse I do, you're Buffy Summer's, sister to Dawn Summer's."

It was clear to Dawn from the amusing tone provided that Lara was earning some enjoyment out of Buffy's frustration. And Dawn knew that if she had noticed her jovial-air, then Buffy certainly did as well.

The Slayer gripped the edge of the table, her fingernails being heard splintering and tearing at the hard wooden surface. Looking across the divide to her sibling, Buffy, then growled out a response. "Fine, if that's how you want to do this, cool. But if your not going to take me seriously then we're leaving. With or without a ride back to London. Dawn get up and say your goodbyes!"

Even though Dawn was almost certain this was a bluff, she couldn't be a hundred percent sure. So reluctantly she raised herself from the table and played along. The shared movement by both herself and Buffy finally forced Lara to tear her eyes off from the plate in front of her. And even though there was no smile on her face, there was warmth in her eyes as she spoke to both of them.

"Please, don't leave, at least not like this. If you are insistent on departing then I ask you to wait until Henry has returned from tending to Dawn's running faucet. It would take you an easy hour just to walk to the Main Gate and your footwear is not designed for such uneven and earthy travel. Besides, I would feel better, and so would you, if we could as you said 'hash' things out like civilised adults and come to some understanding. Talk, without the unnecessary accusations."

"Accusations? I think I am completely justified in wanting to know what your 'Game' is! I mean, do you take us both for fools? What's your angle? Why did you invite us here?" Buffy's voice once more carried steel in every syllable, Lara Croft, however, remained unfazed by that harsh and cold questions.

The Tomb Raider gestured for both women to reclaim their seats. Only when both eventually complied did she answer the Slayer's question. "Angle? There was no angle except that I wanted to get to know you both better. That and because, Buffy, I want to help you. You and all the other Slayer's."

"Ah, so you *DO* know who I am!"

Lara returned to eating her morning breakfast, carving up her egg as she answered. "Of coarse I do."

With a hurt tone in her voice, Dawn chose now to challenge the person she was hoping would have mentored her in the world of Archaeology instead of just using her as a means of getting Buffy into the same room as her. "Then why the deception?"

Lara met Dawn's eyes prior to answering and as before, Dawn could only see genuine warmth and sincerity in her gaze. "There was no deception, Dawn. Though I will admit to withholding certain relevant and very personal information from our exchanges last evening, this data did not in anyway impact upon the inaccuracy of what was offered to you both. I was completely forward and honest with you regarding everything Slayer related."

"But you had us at an unfair disadvantage, you knew who we were."

"And you knew who I was Dawn. I am not so foolish as to not know that someone like yourself would be unaware of my character or of my various sensationalised accomplishments?" Lara then returned her attention back to her breakfast as she proceeded to answer the younger sister's statement. "You did come here expecting to be interviewed, didn't you? How silly would it have been for you to have fronted up to such a thing and not be familiar with the personality that you would be meeting? Besides, did I not say when I met you both last night that I never invite anyone into my Family Home who I did not already know forwards and backwards? Do really you think myself prone to such exaggeration?"

Grudgingly both Dawn and Buffy looked to each other from across the table. Both recalling with ease that this was indeed exactly what was told to them both the evening before.

"If anyone in this group of ours has been deceptive, it has been you two. I welcomed you into my home with relevant information towards Slayer's. Information, it was clear, that you were both obviously unaware of. Which, if I can be completely frank and honest, I find both frightening and staggering all at the same time. I mean, Buffy, do you truly not have any interest at all in the circumstances that led up to you losing complete choice over your life and how it is lived? I find that absolutely remarkable."

The critic forced the Slayer to break her glance away and stare angrily upon the wooden surface of the polished table, gritting her teeth

"I revealed the suspected Mythology of the Slayer-Line, the Curse and suspected Cure as well as other poignant pieces of fact. And now you dare have the gall to make me feel as though *I* am the manipulator?"

Lara looked back and forth between the silent pair, allowing her words to sink in. "I can appreciate that your lives are centred very much upon secrecy. And that exposing the truth of who you are and what you know with respects to the various things that go 'bump in the night' to normal-people would have you both in a white jacket with long sleeves bouncing off four walls before you could say '_Queen and Country'_."

Buffy looked up from the top of the table she had been staring down at with a startled expression, one that then quickly morphed into a furious one as it focused on the direction of the speaking Adventurer. Dawn could read a plethora of emotions as they formed delicately on the now angered blondes face. Everything from fear, guilt, pain all the way to raw hate. The younger Summer's sister wasn't certain if Lara's proven and impressive 'intelligence' on both she and Buffy was as complete as she claimed or whether the Tomb Raider's reference to either of them ending up in a Mental Ward was a random comment. Regardless, Dawn was certain that it did nothing but stir up frightening memories of a time when Buffy had once indeed tried to warn both their mother and father of the truth about Vampire's and the outcome of her honesty.

It was after their Mom and Dad had returned from their 'Couple Retreat'. A Retreat that was designed to help reignite the passion in their marriage only to discover that during their two-week absence their daughter had started to hang-out with a High School Drop-out called 'Pike' and that her name was significantly linked to a fire that took the lives six of her classmates and thirty or so reported 'Gang Member's that crashed the School Dance.

The explanation she gave the pair on the 'Why' and 'Wherefores' of everything, from the truth of her involvement in the Fire to being 'Called' as a mythical Demon Slayer of Supernatural Things, all the way to the death of her first Watcher Merrick was beyond the word 'fantastical'. To both parent's, this was not the 'Daughter' they had raised. So they did the only thing they thought responsible parents would do if they saw their child becoming tormented with delusions of unbelievable grandeur. They admitted her into a Mental Health Ward.

Buffy was there for up to twelve weeks being force fed anti-psychotic medication and receiving injections against her will. It was during that time that the stress of supporting a marriage that was obviously failing. Their eldest child becoming the focus point of a police investigation into arson and possible manslaughter. Having this daughter then labelled a delinquent by the District School Board and then expelled under suspicion of a criminal act which cost the High School she attended three-million dollars in repairs and restoration. As well as having said daughter presently drooling into her Fruit Cup in the local Looney Bin proved all too much for Hank Summer's own sanity and stability within the home he helped build.

When Buffy finally started to 'play-the-game' and not resist her Doctor's, admitting to them that Vampire's and Demon's were all part of a delusion, she was discharged. But by that time it was too late to ever return back to the life she once had. Her father had now moved out of their home and both her Mom and Dad were dealing through their respective Divorce Lawyer's. For everyday that followed, right up until Joyce Summer's death, Buffy carried around the guilt of knowing that it was her handful of straw that finally broke the Camel's back and destroyed her family.

Dawn drew herself out of her inner thoughts and looked at her 'hero'. If Lara *did* know that her sister ended up in a Psyche Ward and of the heartache that it caused not only for her and their family then she was playing full-contact football on very thin ice. Anyone who knew Buffy well enough knew that touching on this subject was a dangerous one and one that you undertook at your own peril. If not for the fact that they both desperately still needed answers from Lady Croft, Dawn suspected that Buffy would be right about now tearing elder female's luscious raven mane out from it's roots.

"… But I would have thought that after I revealed that my forefather was once a Watcher who oversaw his own Vampire Slayer and a member of the Council that I would earn a little bit of credibility and trust. But, no! At no point as I was making these various, and dare I say *significant*, disclosures known to you did either of you offer to imitate my own goodwill. Rather instead you both chose to play 'dumb' and to make me feel like a fool for wanting to believe we could actually trust one another."

Despite her own feelings of conflict on behalf of her sister, Dawn could not contend against the inner emotion of shame at herself and her own actions. Her doe eyes strayed to her lap, Lara was right. She had been honest with them and they had not extended the same courtesy.

"… If anyone at this table has the right to feel as though their nose has been put out of place, it is most certainly me. You have gained more from your brief association with myself, then I have with you. And if it was not for the fact that I have an invested interest in trying to earn and build on my relationship with either of you I would bid you both 'good-day'. Fortunately, however, that is indeed the case."

Dawn looked up from her lap, relief showing on her face as she looked over at her sister. Buffy was once again looking in the direction of Lara, but the younger Summer's sibling could see that there was no 'relief' on show. Buffy hated being one-upped by anyone, she undoubtedly hated it more that Lady Croft had done such very easily and then in the same breath extended to both of them her pseudo-forgiveness.

"B…but why?" The question to Dawn was one that for her was obviously waiting to be asked and now that Lara had finished 'scolding' both of them she felt a need to ask it aloud.

"Why what?"

"Why us? You already know about the Council. Why did you come to me, I mean … come to Buffy? You could have gone straight to them if you had info on helping the Slayer's. You didn't have to use me like this. If you needed a go-between I would have even been willing to help you out. You didn't need to create this elaborate ruse of internship."

Lara gently closed her eyes and winced as she now considered how Dawn must have perceived everything that had been going on between herself and her sister. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open and her bee-sting lips offered the young Oxford student an apologetic smile. "There was no ruse, Dawn. My desire to meet you was for all the reasons I gave you and though I can understand your reluctance to now believe my words I do not regret dinner last night or everything that transpired afterwards. You have indeed impressed me and I would be happy to guide you further if you will allow me too."

Buffy was not willing to allow her suspicions settle however, she still was harbouring a great deal of anger at Croft for using her sister to draw her out to her Manor. At this stage it was easier for the Slayer to distrust the thirty-year-old then to submit to Lara's flowery reassurances. "Yeah, but why her? Don't misunderstand me, if this is what Dawnie wants then I'm all for it. But she's right; this smells worse then week old fish. She told me the other day that you never offer people these slots, and you apparently get applications from eager egg-heads from all over the World. So why her and why now?"

It was at this moment that Henry re-entered the Sun Room and chose to join in on the tail end of the conversation. "An average of one-hundred submissions' a year, nearly 99.9 percent of them male. Many not even in the field of Archaeology, just post-teenage boys hoping to try their 'luck'. We typically discount the Curriculum Vitae that sneak in the full-naked-body shots of themselves."

Lara hid her laugh behind a raised hand, but the twinkle in her eyes could not hide how amused she always was whenever such submission's occurred. "You are such a prude, Henry. Those are always good for a laugh and you know it."

"That maybe, Lady Croft, but your not the poor soul that must sort through the correspondence are you? There are something's I do not need to see staring back at me at ten in the morning."

Lara chuckled again as she pushed her now empty plate aside and drew her cup of tea in front of her person. Henry then turned to look at Dawn, bowing slightly before addressing her. "I wish to assure you Ms. Summer's that I fully inspected your room and you will be relieved to know that your memory was playing tricks on you. You did indeed turn all the taps closed."

Dawn blushed and nodded her thanks to the butler for the unnecessary effort, feeling another wave of guilt overcome her for lying and having him make a redundant journey.

Buffy wasn't prepared, however, to let the matter drop after all she still had not received a firm explanation. True, Croft may have said that Dawn _'had the job of being her little protégé'_ but that did not explain the suspicious timing of it all. "Yeah, but*"

The Man-Servant, Henry, must have anticipated the Slayer's argument and challenging follow-up as he then broke into Buffy's question without pause whilst he began clearing his Mistress's plate and placing it upon the trolley.

"* Lady Croft will be taking an extended time away from the lifestyle she is famous for in order to pursue more home-bound interests. But her experience has been such that she knows one cannot turn and walk away from the responsibilities entrusted upon us by our ancestors and that there are some in this World who would use these precious discoveries to diabolical ends. For the last month or so, Lady Croft, has been entertaining the idea of offering a capable young person the means and opportunity too, as they say, step into her combat boots on the day she *does* retire. Your sister, Ms Summer's is not only well thought of by her Professor's but her unique background as being the sister of the longest-lived Slayer on record has exposed her to many unusual and extraordinary scenario's that the common student her age is inexperienced on. Added to this already impressive list of credentials, she is also very highly thought of by someone whom Lady Croft both respects and admires."

Buffy was darting her annoyed expression between both the now smug High Born as she started to sip her tea and the butler to her side. The Slayer wasn't sure what was truly worrying her the most, the fact that the middle-aged Englishman's explanation answered nearly all her doubts or the fact that Dawn had been vetted and no one had even known about it. "Yeah, you mentioned this mystery-person, last night. Who is it? If you're going to be listening to their advice then I want to know if their advice is worth counting on. What did they say about her?"

"Shut-up, Buffy!" The Slayer looked over to her sister once more and again she saw the same excitable smile that was plastered across her face when she stood up five minutes earlier and shouted out to God. At that moment, Dawn, didn't care who had spoken so highly of her all she knew was one thing: Lara Croft didn't want her to be her student, she wanted her to be her Successor!

"Do you mean it? This isn't some Summer Protégé Program is it? This is the real deal. You actually want to train me to be another 'you'?"

Lara's eyebrows raised. "I certainly hope your ambitions, Dawn, extend further then just being an imitation of another. I am hoping you would rather make your own name and not chose to try and capitalise off of mine. I think you have potential. A first class mind tempered with an inquisitive nature. But do not think for one moment this will be a leisurely boat journey down the Thames. You will be thrust into an intensive training schedule of languages, customs and survivalist training. Firearm's, as well as self defence."

"Self Defence? Guns? What the Hell do you think your going to get my sister into?"

"Shut Up, Buffy!"

"Not on your life! Tell me, *LADY* Croft."

"What I am planning, Buffy, is to develop in Dawn the skills to be able to get herself out of whatever hostile situation that she might find herself in. I, like many others, plan for the worst and hope for the best. True, Dawn can follow the road of many of her peers and spend a majority of her life in a Museum dusting and cleaning up pottery fragments. She might even, after several years, of sitting hunched over on a stool be permitted to attend a dig where her skills will be employed in sifting through tonnes and tones of loose earth in search of bone fragments the size of your tooth. But the person who holds her in the highest regard thinks that she is, like her secret beau, capable of … 'extraordinary' things."

"But she's never held a gun in her life."

"Then she will learn."

"Or knows how to fight."

"And whose fault is that, Buffy?" The Slayer looked startled at her little sister's accusation. "You have promised me for years to teach me to take care of myself. But only Giles and Faith have ever taken the time to show me how to do a roundhouse kick or throw a punch. You promised me once that you would show me the world. But the world I have seen, I have seen under my own terms. Not yours. You have no right to play the 'Big Sister' Routine now, when you have literally had years to put your money where you mouth is. If I want to take, Lara, up on her offer then you'll just have to lump it. Because you cannot pick and chose when it's convenient for you to be my sister and when it isn't. And if I want to do this, then … tough luck for you."

Buffy suddenly became speechless, it was like she was hearing Xander's argument to her in the Watcher's Library all over again. Was she really that selfish? Were people and friendships for her based only on convenience? She never really thought so, at least she never really thought Dawn thought so. But the fact that these words were being spoken obviously meant that on some low tier level, her sister, believed her to be a very self-interested person.

Seizing the initiative, Henry, spoke up. "It will not all be daggers and intrigue, Ms Dawn. So if I were you I would get those glamorous thoughts out of your head. Many weeks have been spent in preparation of adventures in Libraries. Infact, Lady Croft's success is all based upon preparation and her choice of travel companions."

"Yeah, that's another thing. I don't like the guys you have told me she hangs out with."

"Two years ago, Ms Buffy, I would have agreed with that allegation. But over the past couple of years her choice has improved. So rest assured, though some would say Lady Croft is 'reckless', they can never say that she is reckless with other people lives, and neither is her partner of choice. I can say now, that if Lara was to take Ms Dawn under her wing, then your sister will be more protected then the Queen herself."

The Englishman's soothing words seemed to pacify the Slayer's fears, if only a little. "But why didn't you go to the Council if you have all this info. You gotta know that they will find out about it eventually, besides they would have a more extensive knowledge of Slayer's then anywhere."

Lara leaned back in her chair, her eyes briefly passing over to her man-servant before they fixed themselves once more on the Slayer. "I don't trust them. Though I do understand that over the last few years there has been a re-vamping, if you will excuse the pun, under the administration of Senior Watcher Rupert Giles. But there is still relevant information that has been intentionally kept hush-hush from the masses, and I do not like that."

"What are you talking about?"

The Tomb Raider looked from Buffy to Dawn and back again. "This is what I mean. You two are perhaps the most trusted people in Mr Giles life and yet you are oblivious to the horrid reality of things."

This time it was Dawn's turn to voice the question of her meaning.

Lifting her tea to her lips, the beauty asked the younger. "How many Slayer's in the World are there Dawn? Not just active Slayer's but also those in reserve?"

Not wishing to disclose the actual figure, Dawn, chose to be vague. "Several thousand."

"Of those several thousand, how many have died since they had been 'called'?"

"A few hundred or so, certainly no more then 700."

Returning her tea cup to the saucer, Croft, gently closed her eyes. "And how many new Slayer's have been called into existence with those deaths? Can I phantom to say none, correct? You have just been drawing from the many reserves you have deposited around the world, haven't you?"

Dawn didn't answer, the truth was she couldn't answer. To the best of her knowledge, Lara, was right. Ever since Willow cast her spell and ignited all the Potential's around the world and making them all pre-mature Slayer's there has not been a single one called since.

Dawn's expression was enough for Buffy to know that Lady Croft had said something frightening real and accurate. There were no more Slayer's being called, ANYWHERE!

"When your friend, Willow, called forth all the Chosen Ones, despite her noble intentions. She forced and stretched the Slayer Curse into something it wasn't supposed to be. What she did was she threw a drum of gasoline on a fire. It burns bright and it burns hot, but it also only flares for an instant. At the end of this generation, the Slayer line will be extinguished. In twenty, thirty, maybe forty years tops, the Slayer's will be no more and the Vampires, the Werewolves, the Demon's and Wizards and Witches will take hold of civilisation once more. And God help us all then."

"How do you know about Willow and the Spell. Are you blaming all this on her?"

"My sources are very reliable and yes, Buffy, I am blaming her. Because it was she who opened the door and didn't think on how she was to close it again once the job was done. She just left it open. What she did was both irresponsible and arrogant. A novice would have known better. You never cast an enchantment or a spell unless you have the means to reverse it. And we have to fix this blunder, Buffy, before the world pays for it in Spades."

"Alright, how? Miss I-have-the-Answer's"

A smug smile passed over the Tomb Raider's lips. "You already know how, Buffy. You both do. I told you last night, remember?"

The Slayer looked at her sister and was happy to see the same puzzled expression on her face as it was on her own. But this expression only lasted for a few moments as Dawn started to bounce up and down in her chair with excitement.

"The Legend. The Myth about her going off to fight the non-existent monster."

Lara nodded, pleased that the young Oxford Student had worked it out so quickly. "Absolutely correct. Well done, Dawn."

Buffy raised her hand in annoyance. "Excuse me. Can anyone then explain it to me then?"

Dawn giggled and started to clarify. "The first Slayer said she would not return to her village until she had vanquished the monster, Buff."

"Yeah. But Croft said that the Monster didn't really exist. That it was a Fool's Errand."

"Exactly. We find where the Village was originally and we walk any and all current Slayer's to it's boarder's. Because the Monster was never destroyed, the oath that binds the Curse will no permit the Spirit to cross the threshold of the village. Instant exorcism. And because the Host isn't killed, death is not a factor. The Spirit will just go somewhere into the ether, collecting other part's of it's spirit until there is only one Slayer left and then the Curse will, or rather should, reset itself to it's original parameters. Of only one girl in all the world at one time malarky."

Lara was pleased. That was exactly what she believed as well. "You are absolutely correct, Dawn. And it was for this reason I invited you as soon as I found out your sister had arrived in England."

"Hang on. How did you find out so quickly? I only knew when Buffy had phoned me from the airport. And then a couple of hours later I was called to the Dean's office with your invitation. How did you find out so quickly?"

"You'd be surprised what a few hundred pound's a month to a lowly paid Visa Official will get you."

"You endorse bribery?"

"Of coarse not. I endorse information. I have my very own 'Persons of Interest', and when one of them goes through the official channels to arriving on my home soil. I would prefer not to be caught with my pants down around my ankles unprepared. I have over my life made a great deal of 'colourful friends' who might wish to pay me a surprise visit. As well as people I generally find myself in regular competition with. In knowing that they have arrived on my home turf I am able divide my attention towards an endeavour that they themselves are working on. And see if it is something that might also interest me. And to the better person goes the spoils."

"And I'm on your 'Hit List'?"

"Along with several other people of note, Ms Buffy. Not all of them dubious in nature."

"Yeah? Like who. Not feeling too reassured that I am on anybodies list. Give me an example."

"Professor Sydney Fox, for one."

"THE RELIC HUNTER!" Dawn screeched out.

"The wannabe, you mean." Answered with a derisive tone. "She's more about quantity and less about quality. She can have her trinkets, I'm all about the big Prizes. As rival's go, Dawn, she is not in my class. So please curb your excitement towards someone who might be a little more deserving of such praise."

"Meow." At last, Buffy, had seen something get under the aristocrat's cool armour. "I sense a little bit of history? Wanna share."

"Not particularly. She is an obvious and cheap floozy who is reliant on her many contacts and associates to do the necessary research involved. After which she takes that information and extracts the various finds. That and she always ends up sleeping with any poor soul who gets stuck going on expeditions with her."

Dawn looked absolutely miserable towards this claim. "I remember, Xander, saying he met her once three-years ago. He told me she was a very nice, capable and generous person."

"Oh, I bet he did."

Even Buffy was surprised at the almost snarling nature of the aristocrat's reply. "What's that suppose to mean?"

"Nothing. And I am certain your friend is a true gentleman where such things are concerned. Not the kind of man to kiss and tell. Even if he does still receive the odd e-mail from her from time to time asking if he was free to go on another 'adventure' or to meet her for dinner in Cairo or Casablanca or …."

"*ahem*"

Lara composed herself and then looked up thankfully to her confidant. "But I am sure all of that would be in your friend's past. *If* he had sex with her, of coarse. And I'm not saying that he did. I'm just saying that he would have been in the minority if that was indeed the case. It's really none of my business who your friend had sex with three-years ago. It would just be nice to know that your friend had standard's, that's all."

Henry calmly placed his hand on his Mistresses shoulder in a soothing manner. "Moving back to topic. Yes, Ms Buffy, your name is on Lady Croft's 'Hit List' as you put it. And as soon as your arrival through Heathrow was confirmed, Lady Croft made efforts to approach Ms Dawn. But she was always planning on doing so, your return was just fortuitus and it allowed her to take the action she needed to commence her plans."

"Why me?"

"Because, Buffy, not only are you a Slayer. But you are the oldest Slayer on record. Your connection to the Spirit that resides in you would be extremely powerful. Meaning that we are hoping to use that connection as a type of divining rod to the natural landmarks that litter that portion of Africa. A type of Historical Memory. And having you tell us whether some of the places we pass are familiar to you or not. A great deal of Africa has been unaffected by the encroachment of civilisation. Most natural landmarks are as true now as they were tens of thousands of years ago. I mean, we do not have to use you if you do not wish to be part of this expedition, we have others …" Lara gave Henry a very sour look. ".. who are presently on route to England to help us if need be. But the more the merrier."

It took Buffy all of three seconds to decide and the decision, in truth, was never in doubt. "Okay, I'll do it. When do we leave?"

For the next hour, Lara Croft went over their travel plans. It was a lot sooner then either Buffy and Dawn were comfortable with, two days hence. But Dawn was super eager and Buffy had never seen her sister this excited so she was not going to play 'wet blanket' on the whole deal. She and Dawn had to provide Henry with their passports as soon as they got back to London and Bryce would oversee all the Visa's and travel arrangements. The only conditions were that they were not supposed to breath a word of the expedition to anyone, not even the Watcher's Council. If they were made aware of the goal of the adventure, to find away to remove their army of Slayer's and return them all back to the 'one girl policy' then they feared there would be definite opposition.

All the pair really had to do was get their affairs in order so that they could pull a disappearing act for a few weeks and not be missed. For Buffy, that was an easy ask. For Dawn, however, with classes she had to get special permission. Fortunately Lara had provided her with a covering letter to the Chancellor of Oxford advising him that she would be in her educational guardianship for the foreseeable future. The younger Summer's sister couldn't wait to see the expression on Chancellor Patton's assistant when she handed the letter from the Desk of Lady Lara Croft, and hoped she could remember to bring a camera with her to record the event.

Now the two were being driven back to London in the same stately car in which had bought them to the estate 14-hours earlier and would be collecting them again in 48-hours time. Buffy still had that knotted feeling in her gut that Croft had been keeping something from them, but she felt a lot more easier now then she did two-hours previous.

Reading her sister's silence correctly, Dawn, drew up the automatic partition that separated the back seat from the front. Offering Henry an apologetic look as she did so to his curious eyes reflecting back to her from the rear view mirror.

"Your not still thinking that Lara's evil, are you?"

With a smile and a sigh the elder answered. "No, not _pure_ evil. There is a lot of stuff going on Dawn. A lot of stuff. And I didn't know any of it. Did you?"

"No."

"I mean, forget about the Curse Business and the True Love thing, and you better believe me, I'll be raising that with Giles tomorrow morning. But there is also the who Slayer thing. No one has been called since Will did her thing. How come we weren't told that? I mean that seems to me to be mega important. Right?"

"Yep. But you can't tell him, Buffy. Giles can't know what we know. I trust Giles with my life, but what about those that work under him? The old Council had so many secret comities that the left hand sometimes didn't know what the right one was doing. I know, Giles, has tried to be a lot more transparent with that stuff. But he's not god. He can't be everywhere and do everything. One mistaken word to the wrong person and it could be catastrophic."

"I know."

"Buffy?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you think ,Lara, turned down my suggestion of contacting Xander and getting him involved with this? I mean, nobody knows more about the First Slayer then him, and he's in Africa as well. It's a win/win."

Buffy shrugged non-committedly. "Maybe it's because he works for the Council and everything he does she thinks he'll report back to the Watcher's." Truth was, the Slayer was pretty relieved when Lara deflected Dawn's eagerness to call Xander up and tell him all about what they were doing. Her thoughts and emotions were still quite haywire on the 'Xander-True Love' thing. It was just another headache she could do without for the time being. When she saw Xander again, and right now she was committed to doing just that, but she wanted to do it on her terms. She did not want it to be forced. She wanted to be prepared, with many pithy and rehearsed comments at her disposal so that she wouldn't feel like the biggest and lowest slime on the planet.

"But you work for the Council too."

"Yeah. But I'm an Independent-Slayer. I don't have a Watcher breathing down my neck. I've paid my dues in the Field. I contact the Council on a needs must basis and they do the same for me. I get a weekly Pay Check, but very little oversight. Except for the Annual Review of coarse. Xander, has to touch base with them every week and tell them what he's done and where he has been, as well as where he plans to be for the following week."

Dawn shoulders slumped, she was really hoping to have the excuse to phone Xander up on his Satellite phone and brag about her meeting the Tomb Raider and going on a Expedition with her. "So what do you plan to do between now and the time Henry collects us in two days?"

"Well, as I said, I'm definitely going to see Giles tomorrow, whether he wants me too or not. And I going to get some answers on this Curse and True Love thing. There is no way that if this is real, that the Council wasn't already in the know. And I just want to find out if Giles was in the know as well. I'm pretty free tonight. Want to have dinner together?"

"Are you kidding me? I just met the Tomb Raider and I have been offered the chance to be part of her legacy. You really think I want to spend tonight and tomorrow eating in a fancy restaurant with you? Hell, I'm going to tell all my friends at school who I met and then I'm going to lock myself away in the College Library and absorb everything I can find on Alexander the Great, Heracles and the Amazonian's. No way am I going to screw this up. So I'm sorry, Buff. Your eating for one tonight."

The Slayer forced a smile, she was pretty much expecting that answer anyway. "The Hotel I'm staying at has it's own DVD Library for Guest's. I might check out what they got. Order a double helping of some Chocolate Fudge Ice Cream. Turn the lights down real low and have the night in."

"Any idea's what you might watch?"

"Actually, yeah." Buffy looked out the window, watching the green trees and vibrant grass pass. "After what you said the other night, I have a need to watch Troy again. This time, however, I think I won't be paying as much attention to the Brad Pitt character as I used too."

If Buffy could have drawn her eyes away from the beauty of the emerald landscape as it went by, she would have witnessed her younger sister's own eyes begin to narrow at her innocent comment.

12345

Sorry for the delay. Writer's Block and the fact I was working on two chapter's at once. I hope I am forgiven. R & R please :-).


	7. Chapter 7a

Walking up the rich carpeted staircase was easy. Walking down the Hallway was easier. Ignoring the various greetings she received from newly trained Watcher's eager to earn the momentary attention of the famed Slayer who fought and lead a small army of Potential's against 'The First Evil', well, that was something akin to taking notice of a light and passing breeze. However, standing out front of the large and very imposing oak door of Rupert Giles: Head Watcher, that wasn't so easy.

Buffy knew, even before she grasped the handle that would open said door that her impromptu arrival would not be one eagerly met by her former Mentor. This was exactly why she chose to place herself there without offering her former Watcher the courtesy of phoning ahead as was the protocol. After all, after her last audience with the man she could hardly expect to be so eagerly received again. During their last meeting she had said some pretty cruel things. Most of it directed towards him specifically. True, some of it was justified, but for the most of it it was just her venting away at her own inadequacies as a friend and of the haplessness that came from knowing that she had been kept intentionally clueless by those that she trusted above all others.

Willow, Giles, Dawn, as well as everyone else, had in her frantic mind no right to keep events surrounding Xander's activities, dramas and danger's a secret from her. That fact was the one thing in which she was adamant on, and it was certainly one she would not make a single apology over. Yes, maybe it was true that efforts to repair the 3-year-rift that had separated her from him was actually *her* responsibility. After all, it's not like, Xander, had actually done anything wrong. Giles had offered them all their own choices of Assignment and he had chosen one that she disagreed with. It was purely selfish and silly, but when Xander refused to comply with her demands she had felt as though he had somehow betrayed her. And she carried this stupid and very one-sided sense of betrayal all the way with her to Rome.

And yes, maybe it was also true that in the past she had a tendency to blow things out of proportion to the point that they, as a group, genuinely feared informing her on some of his more dangerous Mission's and Adventures. But surely they should have also known that Xander's wellbeing was precious to her. If any of her _'family'_ were hurt or suffering, she had a right to know and too Hell with her sensitivities or ego. That no childish _'silent treatment'_ or indignation could compare to how she would feel if anything dire had happened and she had, as yet, not resolved her silly issues. If Xander had died, or was laid up in a hospital bed, or even if he had gotten himself a splinter or a stubbed toe, she had every right to know about it and to be there for him if he wanted her to be. And yes, even if he *didn't* want her too.

With a heavy hand she pushed down the handle and took a deep breath, discounting the repeated demands from Mary, Giles front office assistant that he was '_not wishing to be disturbed'_. As she entered the room she observed an unkempt Rupert Giles standing hunched over his large desk staring intently at various sheets of paper lying on its surface. As a matter of curiosity he looked up at who his visitor was, disregarded her presence and then proceeded to return his attention back to his immediate task. This, she had to admit, annoyed her greatly. Not that Giles had been in the middle of a task, but that he had effortlessly dismissed her company.

As Buffy steadily closed the door behind her, silencing Mary's voice, she took another deep breath. This, she knew, was not going to be easy. Only a few days had passed since she accused both Giles and astral-Willow of wilfully lying to her. And now she was about to offer a repeat performance. Only this time the deception, she feared, ran far deeper then her just being '_kept out of the Xander-loop'_. If what Croft had told her was correct then it was doubtful that Giles, her Watcher and Mentor hadn't known about the Curse. And if he did indeed know about the 'True Love' clause in the 'Slayer Contract' then that also meant he had been complicit in deceiving her from the very beginning of their association.

With a tired tone, the Englishman spoke. "Buffy if you wish to yell at me some more, can't it wait for another day? I'm pretty busy at present."

Again, to the blonde's annoyance, Giles did not even so much as look up from his desk to address her. What ever it was he was focused on he obviously deemed it more important. And in her present mindset that was possibly the worst move he could have made. Because nothing mattered more to her then the questions she now had burning in her brain.

With a determined stride she crossed the twelve feet that separated them. "Giles, we have to talk!"

"Then make an appointment with Ms Brunt outside, I believe I have a slot available tomorrow morning at ten."

The blonde shock her head in the negative, not that doing so did much as the aged Englishman had not bothered to look up. "When I say we have to talk, Giles. I mean we have to TALK! Present. Not later. Not in an hour, not tomorrow. NOW!"

This demand earned Rupert Giles attention. Slowly he raised his head and allowed his eyes to fall upon the first Slayer he ever trained and who he looked on as his own daughter, if not in blood, bone and flesh, but certainly in spirit and love. His eyes were tired and bloodshot, evidence of a long and exhausting night. And if Buffy wasn't presently possessed with her own direct needs she would have certainly have taken pity on how old and haggard he had now appeared to be. But presently 'pity' was not word she could easily define in her vocabulary.

Slowly, Giles straightened his back and stood tall and proud before her. Maybe it was the large and imposing desk. Or maybe it was because she hadn't seen him as regularly as she used too and his age had taken full claim towards his once distinguished features, with extra wrinkles on his face and the thinning of his light-brown chestnut hair. And if it wasn't for the sound of his voice, she would almost swear that he appeared to be a different person entirely from the pleasant memory she had always cherished. But his now physical visage did little to negate something else that was besieging her sensors; it was how tall he actually was from those self same memories. She never remembered him to being this 'tall'. True, there were very few people shorter then she and she had long gotten used to dealing with this in her daily life. But at that particular moment in time, Giles appeared to her like a giant. And a very angered one at that.

With a very steady and refined voice, a voice that seemed to boom softly throughout the room, he spoke. "Buffy, it has long passed the time when you could waltz into my work place and put demands on my time. In the past I have offered you as much leniency as I could allow. But I am not your Watcher anymore; I surrendered that duty the moment I took command of the Organisation. I am now responsible for over 10,000 individuals. Each one with an equal command upon my available, and daresay, limited time as you seem to believe that *you* do. So if I politely ask you to make an appointment because I am presently dealing with a matter that I deem more significant then playing 'catch up'. THEN YOU DAMN WELL MAKE A BLOODY APPOINTMENT!"

Buffy had been firmly talked to by Giles in the past, and yes, in some of those rare instances he had occasionally raised his voice slightly to help emphasis his annoyance or his point. But never in all her years had he ever yelled at her. Forcing herself to control her quivering lower lip, as she refused to show any weakness, she whispered out a reply to the middle-aged man's demand. But though it travelled softly across the room it was still loud enough to gain the effect that she wanted. "True love, Giles. Why didn't you ever tell me about true love?"

The question caused the aged man to recoil in surprise and confusion. It was hardly the hostile follow-up he was expecting from his first Slayer. Wrenching his glasses off, he looked Buffy Anne Summer's up and down before he found the words to answer. "Excuse me? What are you going on about? What do you mean by 'True Love'?"

With his voice now softer due to puzzlement, Buffy found the steel in herself to continue with her questioning. "Last night I went to that dinner at the Croft's Estate as Dawn's _plus-one_. Croft knew everything about us Slayer's, Giles. And I mean *everything*. It appears that one of her forefather's, or something, was a Watcher himself."

The Head of the Council barked out a chuckle to this revelation. "Of coarse he was a member of the Council, Buffy. In fact given the Croft Families station in English Society I would've been more surprised if they *hadn't* been recruited to become members at some point of our history. Secret Societies, Buffy, a hundred of years ago were all the rage in Europe. The more Secret the Organisation the more exclusive it was. The Free Mason's, The Hellfire Club, The Black Church, the Illuminati. Given the distinction of the Croft name, as well as the wealth they earned from Trade, and as Property Owner's, their patronage would have been eagerly sought, I suspect, by many. And in all likelihood, the Croft's were probably members of a dozen secret Groups', not just ours. So if you were expecting to shock me with that detail, I am sad to say you have failed miserably."

The Slayer's eyes narrowed, yes, she was indeed hoping that this revelation would have earned a measure of curiosity to what she was here to talk to him about. But still she remained undeterred and continued as though Giles had said nothing at all. "Yeah, well, anyway, as I was saying, when he went into Watcher-retirement he took up a very interesting hobby. That little pass-time being a Documented Analysis of 'Chosen Ones'."

Giles bent frame suddenly stiffened at this extra bit of news. And she was relieved to see his eyes widen with mild-horror and the skin tone of his face go slightly pale at this discovery. Suppressing a small smile of victory at unnerving her favourite Watcher she preceded, her voice carrying within its tone an expectation to be taken seriously. "In his little Journal he said there were cases in which when a Slayer experiences true love that they then lose their Slayer-ness and become a normal everyday person. With the upside being that they had their soul-mate now to live that life beside. A life, Giles. An actual life with kids and a husband. A mortgage and PTA Meetings. No Vamp's or Demon wants to make a name for themselves by trying to rip your head off. A life full of love and happiness."

Rupert Giles remained grimly silent.

Gaining further confidence in the fact that she had not been, as yet interrupted, the elder Summer's sister proceeded to the meat of her issue. "Now Giles, I can't help but remember way back when we first met, of me telling you that I didn't want to be a Slayer. Hell, I practically pleaded with you to give the job to someone else, someone who might actually want it. And do you know what you said? You told me that this was impossible. That it was my Destiny to be the Chosen One and that there was no _backsies_. So right here and right now, Giles, I'm asking you, with everything we've been through with one another over the past ten years, did you know about this true-love mumbo-jumbo? And if you did, why in God's name didn't you tell me!"

And there it was.

The flicker of recognition to the weight of everything she had just said. To say it lasted the briefest second would be a lie, it didn't. Barely the length of time it would take a person to blink. But it was there, no mistaking. And it all but broke her heart at seeing it, as she still held out onto some vain sliver of optimism that her former Watcher would be proven innocent towards her paranoia.

Buffy gently closed her eyes and in her mind she cursed her former boyfriend for being such an excellent teacher. After all, the Immortal was the one who had taken the time over their numerous late night dinners to impress and educate her on the human condition. And he did so in an amusing fashion by speculating on the various couples at neighbouring dinner tables. Using their body language, choice of clothing, meals and even the way they would handle their cutlery to offer a unique and detailed history of their character and their ambitions. At the beginning it was an entertaining distraction until their meal arrived. But as the weeks progressed to months she started to indulge herself further into the various philosophies sprouting from her then former-lover's lips. True, he may have had an ego to rival God himself, but he sure as hell knew his stuff.

The Immortal: the ultimate salesman.

The Immortal could walk into any room and within five minutes, just by observing reactions to help guide his responses he could talk anybody into doing anything he wished them to do. Even if they didn't want to originally, he could have them convinced that they did. With them also believing that it was even their own idea the entire time. That was the Immortal's true power and why he continued to have such a tight hold over the Demon Community in Italy and had done so for centuries. He had convinced them that they needed him to oversee their business and they, being the simpleton's that they were more brawn then brain, actually believed him.

By simply being _'The Immortal'_ he received a piece of the demon-crime-pie, all for doing nothing. All that wealth and influence just for a smile and a nod. It was unbelievable. Not that she was complaining at the time, she was enjoying the privileges such entitlements offered her as much as she possibly could. But that was then, this was now. And she was, thanks to his education, now a far wiser Slayer where being lied to face-to-face was involved. Yes, the Immortal was a bastard, but he did teach her well. And it was with these same skills that she also knew Lady Lara Croft was still keeping something concealed from both her and Dawn.

When Buffy once more opened her eyes she noticed that Giles had trained his blue gaze upon her in an unpleasant fashion. He looked like he had just stubbed a toe and was trying his best to hold in a barrage of swear words because he had just noticed her was surrounded by a pack of observant and impressionable five-year olds. In her mind, the Slayer suspected he was at that time formulating an answer that would deflect her enquiry. She was not left waiting long for that to happen.

"Buffy as sympathetic to your love-life woes as I generally am, the writing was always on the wall with regards to yourself and the Immortal. The fact it last over two years is a wonder in and of itself. But carrying on about 'True Love'? Buffy, really? If the Immortal is the kind of person you are setting your sights on, then *"

"*He's not Giles, and you know it! I'm talking about 'True Love', not some … some distraction. True Love!" The Slayer balled her small hands into fist's and levelled them on the table, leaning forward enough so that the thick and classical wooden legs started to creak desperately to the pressure she was applying to it's surface.

Giles eyes refocused once again upon the Slayer, then upon the now light-sloping desk, then once more upon the Slayer. Reluctantly he pulled out his high-back leather chair and sat down, calmly executing a gesture for her to do the same with one of the two similar style, but smaller chairs, opposite to him. Knowing that her point was clearly made, but with her fury still burning in her betrayed eyes, Buffy slowly lowered herself down. And like the father she always imagined him to being, Giles proceeded with a gentle and even toned question. "First off, I have to ask you. What do you know exactly?"

"Exactly?"

"Yes, Buffy. What did Lady Croft tell you about this 'True Love' nonsense?"

"Nonsense? You think love is nonsense?"

"That's not what I mean, Buffy. Please don't be obtuse. I need you to be specific."

"I already told you. Slayer falls in love. They stop being a Slayer. Everyone lives happily ever after."

The Watcher leaned back, his eyes never leaving her face. His tone then became odd, almost cold and challenging. "Fall's in love. Stops being a Slayer. Lives happily ever after. My, my, Buffy. That's very _'Disney'_ don't you think? A simplistic explanation to a very complicated situation."

"Well, what can I say? I'm a simple kinda gal."

"Simple or Simpleton? Because at the moment I'm having difficulty distinguishing between the two."

The Slayer was expecting this reaction. Sometimes the old argument about a 'good defence being a good offence' is true. And right now, Giles, was doing his best to get under her skin with insults in the hope that she would be consumed and distracted over what she was actually there to talk about. The problem was though, she had read and memorised that 'Play Book' years ago and she felt a need to let him know that she was not going to be dissuaded. "Ouch. I'm guessing I hit a nerve. But you still haven't answered my question: Is what I learned the other night true? I'm guessing it is, given the vibe I'm now getting off of you." Buffy tried to keep her voice as level and as cold as her mentor Ha. Point: Buffy..

Realising his ploy failed the Senior Watcher faces expression cracked into one that offered her now less outrage and more compassion. "Buffy, you have no idea what it is you are asking. As always you are treating this sensitive matter like a proverbial bull in a China Shop. The ramifications of your straightforward question is immense and I do not believe you truly appreciate the coarse your enquiry shall take you."

"Yeah? Well, ya'know what? I *am* asking them, Giles. I'm asking them now! And because I am asking, I am expecting answers. Truthful answers. Or would you rather keep me in the dark? Leaving me to go it alone and start shaking people down in order to find the truth your denying me, because you know I will."

The Englishman grimaced at the notion, and she was right. That would be entirely 'Buffy' of her. The only way he could control the information was to be part of it's supply. Gently he swung his chair slightly to angle in the direction of the window, for a moment his gaze took in a view he had seen over a thousand times. It would, he suspected, not serve him at all well if he continued this awkward discussion by placing her off-side. Slowly he closed his eyes and answered this former Slayer in a cultured and britishly refined murmur. "Very well, Buffy, have it your way. And yes, I suppose on a very base level what you have already said a moment ago and learned thus far is true. But if you think that it's as clear cut as you have made it sound. Then I am sorry to say you couldn't be more wrong. That's the difference between something being true and something being accurate. There is typically a vast distance between the two points."

Giles then swung his leather chair back so that it once more faced his former-Slayer squarely. "Understand, Buffy, this isn't something from the pages of a tacky romance novel. This won't come with the _'happily- ever-after'_ answer you are hoping for. And it is for this reason I am now begging you, not only as your friend, former Watcher, and the Head of the Council, but also as someone who cares very much for you and your well-being. Please do not pursue this any further. Because I can assure you, Buffy, you will not like where this line of investigation will lead you, of that I am fearfully certain."

Buffy straightened herself in her chair, and stared defiantly at her would-be-father, noting the sincerity in his voice, but choosing to dismiss the warning. "That's too bad, Giles, 'cause I want answers. And after everything I've been through I believe I deserve them. I've saved the World probably a dozen times. Christ, I've died twice. I've lost friends, my innocence, nearly everything to this damned life, this … this Destiny of mine. A Destiny I didn't want in the first place. All I ever wanted, Giles, was to be an ordinary girl, with an ordinary life. And now I discover something like this? A _'Get Out Of Jail'_ Free Card. After everything. After all the blood I've spilled and shed. After all the pain I've caused and endured. After the deaths. Tell me, Giles, why can't I know the truth? Give me a reason!"

With a slow and steady nod of an aged head a sombre voice followed. "You're right, Buffy. You have suffered and have sacrificed much in your role. But I firmly believe that ultimately this will be a truth you do not wish to know, nor will it serve you in knowing. Sometimes, Buffy, ignorance is indeed bliss."

The Slayer shock her head firmly. "Not your call, Giles. It's mine. It's my life and even if I live to regret what I learn today, as you seem certain I will, I need to know what is real and what is false in *my* life."

Rupert Giles nodded his head once more, sadly. "Very well, but you must accept and wear the consequences, Buffy. And I ask you to commit to your memory that I all but begged you not to take this journey."

The aged and Senior Watcher then looked into his lap, pondering how he might proceed. But in every unwanted scenario that was flooding his mind it was clear to him that little to no joy would ever be earned by the blonde in her education, and as such there would be little to be gained by sugar-coating what needed to be said. Silence and determined eyes was all that was welcoming the Watcher's earlier plea. Both personally and professionally he was hoping that the silence he had just offered her would be enough to make her second guess her stubborn decision. Alas it did not. So with another heavy sigh and a shaking of his head, more out of regret then frustration, the Englishman proceeded. "Very well. You, I fear, have made your choice. Now please tell me everything you were told by Lady Croft."

"Why?"

With another deep sigh, the Englishman leaned forward and addressed the blonde. "Because I need to know if the information that has been shared with you is accurate or if it's just a collection of fanciful wishing. This is … _important_, Buffy."

By the seriousness of her former-Watcher's expression, she was prepared to offer him the benefit of the doubt given their history. And even though every fibre in her body was demanding that he be the one to start with the talking, she remained silent to this wish. Instead she shared what she was told by Croft, about the Curse and suspected cure thereof, but she chose to exclude the Plate of Alexander the Great and the Amazon Myth as per her agreement to Lady Croft. And she chose not to reveal Dawn's speculation of Faith from her story. It took all of three-minutes for her to finish telling her narrative and during that time Giles remained silent, contemplative. When she concluded the tale, the Englishman returned his glasses to their resting place over his eyes and leaned forward upon his desk once more, entwining his finger's together.

"They're called, and are known best by the title _'The Lover's of Athena'_."

Buffy averted her eyes; she could not bear to look at him at that moment. His own words condemning the man she had always trusted of betrayal. "Lover's of Athena, huh? I guess the fact that you guy's having had the courtesy of giving them a name means that they're pretty real."

"Yes. Yes, they are. Once a long time ago, when I was coming through the ranks, I believed their existence and influence over a Slayer's destiny to be an exaggeration." Giles gently looked down at his hands, now concealed under the horizon of his desk, and noticed that they had started to tremble. He was unsure if this physical reaction was due to fear or anticipation of what might come his way shortly. "It was not."

"How do you mean?"

"You see, for every Slayer, Buffy, there is her Lover. One Slayer. One Lover. Just as you were once Chosen, some Authority from on High also selected them as well. But the when, where, and how a Slayer and Lover will meet is always a mystery. Some Slayer's meet their Lover nearly immediately, with other's it could take years. Some I fear never ever get that opportunity, often they perish in the line of duty before destiny allows them that chance.

"Now earlier you referred to them as being your True Love. That, Buffy is a misleading description. You have had relationships, Buffy, and each one of them has been able to earn an endearing place in your heart and had you believing and referring to them as either your True Love, or Soul Mate. But where are these 'Soul Mates' of yours now? Angel, Riley, Spike? When a romance is going well, or going as expected, they are indeed a comfort. But the moment yours or their circumstances change or alter, whether it is for right and noble reason's or ones deemed selfish. They, and you, can fall just as easily out-of-love as in-love. It is true that residual feelings may exist, but that is all. You see, Buffy that is the difference between someone who is your _'True-Love'_ and someone who _'Loves-You-Truly'_. A man who loves you truly accepts you for everything that you are. For all the right and the wrongs. Their love does not judge, waver, or surrender. It just simply 'is'. Do you understand what I am saying?"

Buffy's eyes glistened and shimmered. Yes, she knew exactly what he meant.

"There are only a few accounts in the Archives where a Lover has shared with a Watcher what happens when they … for lack of a better word, accept, their own destiny. And in all the various text's, as few as they are, the information that has been gathered has pretty much remained consistent with each individual telling."

"Why? What happens to them?"

Giles eyes drifted over his desk, taking on a far-away look. As if trying to recall a description or memory he had until that moment easily forgotten. "Well, nothing physically if that is what you're worried about, Buffy. In truth, if you are expecting some sort 'transformation' to have happened, akin to yourself waking up one morning with the ability to lift a refrigerator over your head. Then you would be left disappointed. What they experience is more in line to a revelation. It is claimed that the moment the prospective _Lover_ first takes in the appearance of their 'Chosen One'…" Giles seemed to Buffy to emphasise the secondary title of the Slayer and Buffy couldn't help but wonder if that name played a deeper connection to the relationship between Slayer and Lover. "… everything in their world suddenly stops for them. They become momentarily dazed by her, caught in a unique type of funnel-vision. One where she, in an instant, becomes the centre of everything that matters most to him. She becomes, in short, his entire reason for being."

"Huh?"

Rupert Giles rubbed his temples, if he had to stop and start in order to explain everything then he felt he and his first Slayer would be still in this room till midnight. "Surely, Buffy, you've heard the expression: _Like a Bolt from the blue_? _Being struck by Cupid's Arrow_? How about, '_Love at first sight_'?

Snippily the Slayer replied. "Of coarse I have."

"Well, that's as good of a description to what happens to them as any. The Lover, Buffy, quite literally is drawn into all the beautiful possibilities that could exist between him and the Slayer. All within a fraction of a second. All that amorous potential becomes imprinted upon them and what is left behind is nothing but pure and absolute clarity. They instinctually know their place in the Universe, and that place, Buffy, is at the side of their Chosen One. …"

Buffy's eyebrows rose once more, now in surprise at how the name and title of the 'Chosen One' was again being applied in Giles description. She had always believed that 'Chosen One' meant that she was 'Chosen' to be the 'One' to fight Vampires, Demon's and other Supernatural threats. But of coarse that was all a lie. There wasn't just 'One' of her. There was Kendra, then Faith and now thousands of others. And if what Lara had said the other night was true? That her selection wasn't about her being the right person for the job. It was all about the convenience of her being in the right state-of-mind when the Spirit was leaping from one body to another. There could have been for all she knew, hundred's of girl's in LA who had fit the same criteria as her when she was Called. But she just happened to have been thinking the kind of thoughts that singled her out as someone the Spirit felt a deeper connection too at the time of their 'joining'. The fact that Willow was able to call forth several thousand other Chosen 'Ones' from all around the World all at the one time is evidence that there really wasn't any 'One'. Just a very picky Spirit.

"…His subconscious mark's her in a way that … " The Englishman voice tapered off and after a moment he continued with a very annoyed tone. "I'm sorry, Buffy. Is this boring you? You were the one who asked me the question."

Buffy momentarily shock her thoughts free and returned her attention to her former Watcher. "Huh? What do you mean?"

The response from the male was at first an exasperated glare, followed by a cutting reply. "Oh, it just looked like you were daydreaming for a moment, that's all. Of coarse if you're finding it difficult to focus, or don't wish for me to continue*"

"* Don't even think about stopping, Giles. I was just … reflecting, that's all. I am permitted to do that aren't I? 'Reflect'?" The Slayer then leaned forward and picked up a pen from the large desk. Twirling it nonchalantly between her fingers, in an effort to demonstrate she was indeed paying attention to the words of her former mentor she decided to contribute to the discussion with a question. "So what you're saying is that these Lover-Guys are attracted to our looks, that we're just a bit of 'eye-candy' for them?"

"Of coarse not. What a ridiculous claim." Giles pushed himself back further in his chair. "Maybe I didn't describe it properly." The Englishman then paused for a moment, rubbing his temples in contemplation. "What I mean, Buffy is that they become *aware* of you. And once this happens it is like all the tumblers start falling into place."

"Tumblers?"

"Yes, for them it is as if all their 'dreams' have now manifested before them and taken physical form. There is a very popular urban-myth, Buffy, that says that there is someone out there for everyone. Now imagine dreaming of what such a perfect person would look like, think and how they would act. And then suddenly, quite out of the blue, bumping into that very 'imagination' out on the street somewhere?"

"That would be …" The Slayer bit her lower lip as she tried to process how such a thing would be like for her. Then becoming momentarily lost in the scenario. That is until, Giles, once again rescued her from her inner ponderings.

"I think the word you are searching for is 'overwhelming'. To witness the personification of all your adolescent desires made flesh, and then to have that very person standing right before you?"

"Yeah. Overwhelming. But what about us … meaning me? Shouldn't I have these same impulses as well? Where is my jaw-dropping moment?"

The Watcher shrugged. "In some recess of your mind there is possibly an acknowledgement of some kind, but I suspect the Slayer Spirit clouds those thoughts from you, as it is not exactly in it's best interest for you to know such things."

Buffy nodded her head, unaware that she was doing so. "Yeah, I heard about that theory the other night from Croft. She said that the Spirit manipulates it's Host's perceptions and might even re-direct and counterfeit emotions. Forcing their Host, in other words *me*, to fall in love with other people."

Giles, in return, also nodded his head in agreement. "It is possible, it certainly would make sense if the Spirit did indeed do such a thing." Giles hand drew across the surface of the desk and activated the intercom to the outer office. "Mary, could you please arrange some refreshments for myself and Ms Summers. I suspect we will be in here for a while. Also could you redirect all my calls and all my morning appointments to Mr Cavender."

A voice sharply cracked from the speaker. "Any particular blend of Tea, Mr Giles?"

"This morning has been full of surprises, what's one more. Your choice, Mary, just none of that Mint-Rubbish."

"Very well, sir."

Giles once more leaned back in his chair and looked appraisingly upon his first Charge. "You said earlier that this is a curse, well then if this is indeed the case then you must accept that the Lover's are not the ones in this pairing who are burdened to prove themselves. It is the Slayer who must work through their insecurities, vanity and doubts. Not them. For the Lover, once they are active, everything is clear. Their heart, mind and soul are not clouded with recriminating questions of either themselves or their worthiness." Giles then entwined his fingers together, creating a steeple with the two index-fingers, then slowly, VERY slowly drawing them up to his lips.

"Do you remember that Movie, the one you said was your absolute favourite as a little girl … 'The Prince's Bride'? The one I was forced and quilted into sitting through, with both Willow and Xander. Eight-years ago when you had that stubborn bout of flu that was going around the school."

"You said you liked it!"

"I said it was 'surprisingly good', not that I liked it. There were far too many historical inaccuracies for me to actually give it a resounding and positive review. I mean truly, Buffy, was it set in the 15-hundreds or the thirteenth century? For a Historian like myself, the overlapping of customs and fashions were almost too much for me to bear let alone behold. That movie's costume designer and fact-checker should have been drawn and quartered."

"Some people focus more on the story and less on the Codpieces, Giles. And for your information it was called the '_The Princess Bride'_." The Slayer then blew a strand of hair off her face in irritation, doing her best to discount the critic of her most favourite movie in the entire world. "So? What of it?"

"The two protagonist. Beatrice and Wendell*"

"_Buttercup and Westley_."

Giles sighed. "The names really are not that important, Buffy. What I am trying to do is direct your narrow understanding of a 'Lover' by employing two characters' you are already familiar with."

"Alright, I can work with that. I'm guessing that in this case, Westley, is the Lover, right?"

"Exactly. A Lover would share many devoted traits to this character. He is single-minded, all he desired was to be at his Chosen's side. To protect her from harm. Regardless of the abuse he would suffer, and all the trials and the dangers he would have to face in doing so. He would gladly endure pain, humiliation and even death, all without complaint. Because the Lover viewed his love for his Chosen to be one that defined him. The Lover's desires, hopes and ambitions become servile and second to that of the safety and happiness of the Slayer, Buffy. His only goal in this life would be to cherish, love and protect his 'Chosen One' from harm and misery, no matter what form it would take. "

"Hang on. Are you saying that this Lover becomes the Slayer's unwilling Slave?"

"Slave is a very harsh definition, Buffy."

"Yeah, but is it accurate?

"Certainly not. They *DO* have choice."

"It sure as Hell doesn't sound like it to me." The Slayer's voice stressed out.

"Their love, Buffy, is self-less. They do not seek reward for their loyalty or fidelity. Their mere acknowledgement is typically enough to sustain them."

"What are they? A freakin' dog? They're people, Giles. PEOPLE! They have emotions."

"Yes, they do. And they feel things more deeply then you and I can possibly imagine. Often to their own detriment. They are Lover's, Buffy. Their passion is their greatest strength. And that passion can take many forms. But it is not the only attribute they possess. If they love you, and you love them in return then they will do everything in their power to make the impossible seem mundane and to live up to every expectation you could hope to have in a partner. A Lover, Buffy, is the perfect compliment to whoever he gives his heart too. What affects you, affects him. When you suffer, he suffers in-kind. True, it may not physically, but the depths of his grief at knowing of your pain would be immense. "

"You almost make it sound as though this is something I should be afraid of."

"If that is what you are taking from what I have said thus far, then you have successfully read between the lines, Buffy."

"What does that mean?"

"The Lover will love you in the manner in which you desire to be loved and he will protect you from all forms of foulness … if he is able. You will be forever defended and eternally adored."

"Not seeing a down side here yet, Giles."

"Yes, well you wouldn't. But that type of devotion takes it's toll. The more they Love, the more they are willing to risk if the source of their love is in danger or has been lost. The Ancient Wizards who created the Slayer Line offered you a man's purest love as an enticement because they believed that the original Slayer was above such menial needs. That she would never be attracted to men. That she was consumed with hunting and killing monsters and demons and not towards thoughts of family. As such, I suspect, they never thought their bindings would ever be broken. But if they were, and the Spirit did vacate their Host, then they knew that she would be left weak and incapable of fending for herself. Karma, it seems truly did exist even thousands of years ago. These Holy Men and Shaman's were so fearful of Cosmic Retribution that they ensured that the Host, once freed, would never live in doubt towards their worth to another and that he would forever be able to protect them from harm."

"HEY! I'm not exactly defenceless y'know. Remember, Cruciamentum?"

"Buffy, we're talking of a masculine perception of over several thousand years ago. Women were weak, Men were strong. Women had the children and Men protected what was his. It maybe Bronze Age thinking, but it did have a purpose. But you are right, times change as do sensibilities. Back then 'Love' was a concept not genuinely sought in relationships, but as times progressed and we as a society and as a people became more modern …."

"Yeah, well I'm a modern day gal." she tried to state in an effort to inject a bit of humour.

"Yes you are, and nobody is above being loved, Buffy. And I mean, truly loved. Truth be told, it is something many of us strive for. But understand, Buffy, this ancient spell works upon your idealised perceptions of what love must be. Not the Slayer's. It is *YOU* who must break the shackles in order to gain your freedom, not the Spirit. Somewhere deep in your mind, someplace that you are afraid to venture, you already know who your 'ideal man' is. The hard bit for you is being able to realise this and to take action. To respond to these feelings and not allow yourself to be distracted by what you think you 'deserve'. Like the Lover, Buffy, you already know what attracts you. But you have repressed your feelings to the point that they do not exist anymore."

"What's that supposed to mean? Are you saying I'm 'broken', Giles? That I can't feel?"

Giles leaned forward, about to answer, as a solid knock was heard on his office door. Without being beckoned to enter, the woman who had tried unsuccessfully to bar the Slayer's entrance just 15-minutes earlier entered with a silver tray and two pre-poured cups of tea and a small tray of jammed scones.

The former Watcher and the Slayer awaited Mary to leave the room before they continued their discussion. Giles taking advantage of the silence first. "If I had told you at 16 that all you had to do was fall madly in love with a particular person and then have sexual intercourse with them in order for you to lose you Slayer Gift, Buffy, would you?"

Buffy was momentarily stunned at the directness of his questioning, so Giles pushed his advantage. "What if I asked 17-year old Buffy? How about 18? 19? 20? 21?*"

Buffy's eyes grew sharp. "I don't know. Kinda depends upon the Hottie I guess. What's your point, Giles?"

"My point, Buffy, is that you expect it to be as simple as me telling you who you should love, then going through the motions towards achieving that love. That's it! Problem solved! But that's not it, Buffy. You have to genuinely feel that love coursing through you. It cannot be faked or forced. And I certainly can't make you love anyone who you don't already have an attraction for. You had, in your mind, the '_type of person'_ someone like you should be in love with. And any suggestions of people that did not fall into your cookie-cutter ideal, you would discount immediately. Your choices were, in all honesty, uninspired and predictable of any adolescent girl. They were generally mysterious, tragic and mature."

"That's not true."

"Really? What about Angel? Riley? Parker? Spike? What about that boy, Owen? You shared nothing in common with him, infact I dare say you had more in common with a bronze doorknob then you did with that lad. Yet you pursued him with vigour."

"That was a long time ago, besides, he was a cutie and I wanted to snag him before Cordy did. It was purely a bit of 'in-your-face-therapy'. I wasn't serious. Not really. I just wanted to date the guy a few times, besides, he seemed really interesting."

"Please, Buffy. That whole 'Tragic Soulful Poet' Act went out of style with Shelley and Byron. His MO was so transparent he might as well have been made entirely out of glass. What I am trying to say is that you made your choices and they could not be made for you. The Lover is not some 'fling', like how you were describing your time with that Owen-Gentleman. They are a commitment, Buffy. They are someone you could see yourself growing old with. Someone you would happily love for eternity and then complain to God that even eternity is too short a time."

Hearing these words only boiled the Slayer's blood. It was like a taunt to perfect happiness, happiness that she was certain had been robbed from her, as well as another. "That's still no excuse about you keeping me in the dark about these 'Lovers', Giles!"

"Would it have made a difference if I didn't? Would it have changed how you acted around Mr Finn or Angel?"

The blonde remained silent.

"It was my decision, Buffy. It may not be seen by you as popular right now, but I stand by it. And I did it for all of the reasons that you now oppose. If you could not see the Love on offer, then you did not deserve it." The former-Watcher drew his tea cup to his lips and savoured a small sip, a pleasing smile briefly making it's mark across his face as he watched his former-Slayer consider the weight of the words he had just spoken. "If I had told you ten years ago that there was some 'mystery man' who could make you a normal teenage girl again. What would you have done? Be honest with yourself, Buffy. If not with me, then at least with yourself. What would you have done?"

Again, his question momentarily stumped her. Even more now that she had suspected Xander as being the man in question. If Giles really did approach 16-year old her, pointed his finger at her bestest-male-friend, then told her to forget the whole ark-weirdness and too start supporting lustful-and-lovey-dovey thoughts about a guy who she had sworn to Willow she would never have or even try for. Only to then take him off to a Supply Closet for a game of _'60-seconds-in-Hevean',_ what would she really have done? Could she have done it?

"I … I don't know. But this is my life, Giles, not yours! I had a right to know. Even if knowing amounted to nothing, I still had a right to know."

"Have you bothered to consider, Buffy, that maybe my decision in this instance was not just wholly directed towards you and you alone?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Giles rested the cup onto it's saucer. As he expected, his former charge had walked in blindly to his snare of words. "Would you object to me providing you with an example?"

Buffy shrugged her shoulders as her arms reached over to take her own tea cup from the silver tray. "Go for it."

"In the 18th Century, there was a young Captain by the name of Daniel Holtz of His Majesty's Royal Regiment. During an impromptu confrontation with a gathering of Vampires, he met and fell in love with a Slayer of his time."

The blonde's interest was now well and truly piqued. "He was a 'Lover', I'm guessing." Buffy had heard the name Holtz before, but could not place it at that moment. Gently she took her first sip, but her attention remained upon the tale now taking form.

"Yes. Captain Holtz and his men were responding to threats on a village. A village that he and his soldier's were stationed near. The intelligence he had was that these attacks were being perpetrated by a gang of cut-throat thieves. As such he and his men were ill prepared for what they faced. A majority of his soldier's died that night. Caroline, the Vampire Slayer of that time had been following some independent leads, and well, her arrival as well as intervention were dearly appreciated by Holtz's and his dwindling forces. Now whether the two, during the melee, were able to acknowledge their attraction for the other and post battle got mixed up in the adrenaline of their survival I cannot say. But the two undoubtedly had relations shortly thereafter because within the week it was reported to the Council that she was a Slayer no-more. Given the time period, Captain Holtz, quickly made an _'honourable woman'_ of Caroline and wedded her."

The current Slayer snorted in amusement, followed by a sniggering reply of insincerity. But deep down, Buffy, was touched at the gesture. "Good for him." Jane Austin was always one of Buffy's favourite author's, it was one of the few pleasures and secrets she and her mother shared. And even though she didn't understand half of what Jane's books were about, she still enjoyed reading of the polite and over-the-top romantic conduct people all had with one another back then. To her it was always very … civilised and sincere. But she was not about to reveal this vulnerability to her former Watcher.

The middle-aged man ignored the scoffing tone of the woman in his presence and continued unaffected by the sarcastic tone. "Because of the high loss of life of his men, and because no Vampire bodies remained after they had been staked and beheaded. There were no enemy bodies to be found that could substantiate Captain Holtz's bizarre account for the large loss of his men. No Court of enquiry was ever held and the good Captain was hastily expelled from the Service. Quite the humiliation for a Career Soldier. Only through the intervention of the Council, who were trying to keep the ordeal from public scrutiny and notice, was the matter kept quiet with no additional charges laid at Daniel's feet for incompetent command.

"The two of them, Daniel and Caroline, proceeded to live happily for twenty years, their love growing more with each passing day, if that was at all possible. He became an owner of a small, but profitable farm and Caroline became a mother to a baby boy and a little girl.

"But once your eyes, Buffy, have been open to what hides in the darkness and shadows, you can never truly close them again. Daniel, joined an elite group of Demon Hunter's sponsored by the Roman Catholic Church. Using his military training and experience he travelled the expanse of England, doing his best to keep his fellow countrymen safe from that which might threaten them in the night, whatever form it would take."

"Excuse me. When does it get interesting? Not that I'm not fascinated, I'm just sure your building to something and I want to know what it is. Because the way I hear it this seems like the ending of a Fairy Tale to me."

"I believe it starts to get interesting right now, Buffy. You see, _*Angelus_*, had found out that there was a former and more importantly, powerless, ex-Vampire Slayer living in the vicinity of one of his territories."

"An… Angelus?"

"Yes. Angel's darker-self, Buffy. Angelus, has always been what is popularly known as a show pony. For him, nothing was worth doing if it didn't make a bright-red splash. At the time, I believe, he was all of 30-years undead. His ego, so eager to be acknowledged by his peers as one of the bloodiest vampires to ever draw blood, was prepared to take on any risk. But killing Barroom Wenches, Gambler's and Drunks rarely earns you the notoriety that Angelus craved. Slayer's, however, got you noticed. Killing Slayer's makes other Vampires of standing remember your name. And Angelus, above all things, wanted to be remembered."

"Okay. Interested now."

"Angelus theorised that a Slayer would congregate with other demon hunters. So he tracked down the most famed of his time: Captain Holtz. It took two nights of careful reconnaissance outside his farm house to overhear the pair discuss the glory days of their youth. He and Darla discovered that not only had Holtz married the Slayer they were seeking, but that they had children.

"I doubt Angelus ever bothered to question his good fortune that night. He waited for the perfect opportunity to strike. It took two-weeks for Holtz to leave his family and set off to London on a Mission for the Vatican. When Holtz arrived at his destination, he discovered that the mission was a ruse by Angelus and Darla. To rub salt into the humiliation, Angelus had even left a note explaining his intent to kill the Hunter's family that very night.

"Angelus did have a reputation for sending sickening messages to his quarry, as you recall. Remember what he did to you in second year with that classmate of yours? The one you went to view at the funeral home and whom rose to attack you."

"Yeah." A small shiver ran down the Slayer's spine at the memory of the life both taken and wasted by her ex-boyfriend. "Xander saved me, jabbed her through the back with a wooden easel. Stabbing her heart and then going a big ashy *poof*."

"Quite. At any rate, Angelus knew that by the time Holtz received his message that the Hunter would be far too late to save them from what he and Darla had planned. I daresay, Caroline never stood a chance. Not without her powers and over a dozen years of wedded happiness under her belt. I hazard to guess that by the time she knew of the true peril she and her family were in, it was already to late for her to do anything. Angelus and Darla killed Holtz's wife and baby son, draining them dry of blood. But his little girl? Darla turned her into a vampire. Leaving her for her own father to discover and thereby forcing him to slay."

"That's sick."

Giles nodded solemnly. "Yes, but that was the kind of thing that made Angelus and Darla famous. Nothing bought the '_Vampire with the face of an Angel_' greater pleasure then killing the truly innocent. And what is more innocent then a baby or a child? Angelus was going to toy with Holtz, just like he eventually toyed with Drusilla. Drive him mad and then, most likely, turn him. Making him into the one thing he would hate the most.

"I am sad to say that Angelus's plan succeeded, just not in the manner he was expecting. And though it is true that he did make Holtz mad, he did not, however, drive him insane. You see, Buffy, what Angelus and Darla didn't bother questioning themselves over in their joint eagerness to kill a powerless Slayer was this - _How did she became 'powerless'_? They truly had no idea what a 'Lover' was, or what one would be capable of. Both Angelus and Darla looked upon Holtz as a … trifle, a nuisance Hunter who they might be able to play their sadistic games upon. It was not until they were both fleeing for their very lives through the mountain ranges of Europe did either of them finally take a moment to do some adequate research on what could make a Slayer powerless.

"Now imagine both of their surprise when they discovered the truth? That Angelus's and Darla's most dreaded enemy, an enemy that they had all but invited and provoked, was infact Caroline's 'Lover'! On that day, Buffy, at that very second, Angelus, knew what fear truly was. And he knew that he was but an amateur in comparison.

"He had taken from Holtz his entire reason for living, and now the only thing the Hunter had left in him was revenge." Giles paused, wiping his forehead in a tired motion before continuing with his explanation. "Holtz killed more demons and vampires in his pursuit of Angelus and Darla then any Demon Hunter in recorded history. Over three-hundred documented 'kills' in the Vampire Column, many of them with fifty and hundreds of year's predatory experience to call upon. He had even done away with Trialalis, a Vampire who was said to have been present during the Fall of the Roman Empire. Top that number with an estimated 200 Demon's and it is fair to say that Holtz lived each day dreaming of the one in which his life would finally be taken by those that he killed. That he had a Death Wish of sorts, but that he chose not to crawl-up in a ball and die easily. That he would take a score with him and he would have his revenge if it was the last thing he would do.

"The Vampire-Lovers barely stayed one or two towns ahead of him in their cat and mouse chase across Europe. Holtz. A man. An ordinary man with only a blood vendetta to fuel him forward, Buffy, had those that would one day become known as the Scourge of Europe running scared."

All Buffy could whisper out was "wow."

"Wow?" Giles eyebrow arched in amusement and surprise. "That's all you have to say? _'Wow'_? Buffy, a Lover who has been left spurned or left heartbroken is not someone you should ever consider crossing. And if fate dictates that you do cross such a man, then you had best be prepared to face someone willing to burn his own soul to ash in order to gain their revenge. In ancient times that kind of doggedness to a cause would have been admired, and thought heroic and righteous. In today's world however, such a man is a danger and one worthy of fear beyond all comprehension.

"You see, that's what Angelus had not expected when he challenged, Holtz. He had thought that because Holtz fought the good fight that he would abided to some moralistic code. But, Holtz, in his own sad way became more a threat in his search of vengeance then the dark imagination of Angelus could ever dream possible. Holtz crossed nearly every conceivable line and he did it all with a soul. Torture, manipulation, betrayal, murder. Holtz wasn't above any of that if it led him all but one foot closer to getting his reprisal on the vampire's that had killed the family he loved so much."

"So what your saying, Giles, is that these Lover's are like major Bad Asses if you push them too far?"

Again, the Watcher, shock his head in disagreement. "No, Buffy. What I am saying is that they are good, decent and admirable people. But just as Slayer's. Just as we once saw in Faith many years ago, when they turn, as you would colourfully say '_to the Dark side'_. Then they become something you must take seriously. Very seriously, Buffy. They're resourceful, resilient and relentless."

"Exactly. So what we're talking about is '_Are you Sarah Conner_' territory, right?"

"Don't make light of this, Buffy."

The blonde shock her head to emphasis her sincerity. "Believe me, I'm not! Any guy who can make Angelus and Darla turn tail is, in my book, someone I would happily fly to the other side of the Planet to avoid."

The Englishman paused again, taking a brief moment to once more look out the window again. Softly Giles spoke to the ears of the female sitting anxiously in front of him. "Do not confuse determination with Evil, Buffy. And just because you can do something, doesn't mean you should. I hazard to guess that once Holtz started on his path of retribution that he had no idea of the many personal sacrifices he would make or their toll upon his soul. I only offered you Holtz as an example of the extreme. He was once respected, admired, and loved. But when Angelus and Darla took away the source of what he loved the most then all he had left, Buffy, was his hatred, anger and fury to fill that void. They say a desperate man will do desperate things. Now I ask you, to what extent do you think a man without love in his life would go? A man without love, Buffy, is a man who has just that - No love. No love for other's and even less love for themselves."

The Senior Watcher once more leaned forward to pick up his tea cup from the desk. "Holtz paid the ultimate price, he damned his soul. And he didn't even have to think twice as he was doing so. Are you truly so selfish, that you would allow someone you could love with all your being, become twisted and consumed by the mere possibility of your loss?"

"I'm … I don't understand, Giles." The Slayer stared strangely at her former Watcher. "What are you trying to say?"

The Englishman savoured a sip, before meeting his former Slayer's eyes with a response. "What if you died, Buffy. Regardless of the circumstances of how that might happen. Fall off a ladder. Hit by a Bus. Old age. It doesn't necessarily have to be malicious. But are you willing to subject such an ordeal on someone you would claim to love with all your heart? Because I can assure you, Buffy, for as much as you would love them, they would love you a hundred times more in return."

This thought never even occurred to her. For days she had been living with the joyous dream that once her True Love had been claimed, that she and he would disappear into a happiness of their own making. Never to be plagued by worries or doubts. But accidents do happen. How would she feel if something happened to him, and just as importantly how would he feel if something happened to her? Would a love that strong end up being a bad thing? She didn't know, but she doubted she could endure living a lifestyle where all the men she stayed with were men she couldn't or didn't love fully? "So I'm supposed to live a miserable life, never knowing the joys of true love even though it might be only an arms length away?"

Giles eyebrows rose in curiosity at her question. As they lowered his eyes settled on a portrait on the far off wall. With purpose he the rose up from his chair, not saying a word to address the Slayer's query as he did so. He then walked calmly over to the room's mantle/fireplace. Above the mantle there was a life sized portrait of a young woman that Buffy always thought looked a lot like Dawn when she was 17, the only difference being that the girl in the portrait had thick platinum coloured hair and piercing blue eyes. Hair that was so blonde that it almost seemed white. The lone female wore a breastplate of the purest silver, silver that looked white in the reflective quality of the false-sun high above in the painted horizon. The metallic-shine seemed to emphasis her long platted hair. Crossing from her left shoulder to right hip was a deep red sash with a pale blue trim. In her relaxed left arm was a pale shield that supported a vibrant coloured crest on the top right-side, and in her right hand was a short-spear that seemed to project a hefty weight, made entirely out of polished hard-wood.

Buffy didn't know who she was, but she had long taken notice of 'her' every time she had visited Giles Office over the past three-years. But never did she ever enquire into the young woman's identity. Obviously she was a Slayer. But who? Following, Giles, lead she also removed herself from her chair and walked the shorter distance to join him over by the richly coloured painting. As soon as the Slayer joined him, the Watcher spoke.

"You wish to know about never experiencing joys of true love, Buffy? And the pain to always having it a mere arms length away from you? Well then, look above you to the greatest Slayer of all time."

Buffy stiffened. She didn't like that comparison, especially as she had always thought that title belonged to her. "Present company excluded, of coarse."

Giles, didn't so much as miss a beat to her probing enquiry. "Present company _*included*_, Buffy. Her name was Brunhilde, a Germanic Slayer of the mid 13th Century. Her Germanic name, believe it or not, translates from Brun meaning Armour, and hild meaning Battle. _Battle Armour_. It was almost as though when she was being Christened that her parent's both knew that it would one day be her destiny to fight."

The diminutive blonde mumbled something under her breath before raising it an octave for her to be heard. "So what? Her name means something. Big deal." Buffy said glumly. "Buffy probably means something as well in some cultures."

"Yes, I believe it is Californian for '_Born to shop'_."

The Blonde opened her mouth, prepared to engage. But decided against it, preferring Giles to have his small 'victory'. Knowing well that Giles would not have introduced whoever this 'Brunhilde' to their discussion unless it meant something important. She tried to force some nonchalance into her tone even though her ego had just taken perhaps the biggest beating it had in years. "So what makes her such a big-deal?"

"You really should treat your processors with more reverence, Buffy. Earlier you mentioned the individual sacrifices you have made, but truthfully, are theirs any less then the ones that were called upon for you? You are, after all, not the first to take the mantle of Slayer. Whatever trail's you have been forced to face in your years, these same endurances have been faced many times before and by many more other then just yourself."

The tiny Slayer's eyes searched the carpet at her feet, feeling appropriately brow beaten at her own insensitivity to those girls who had walked the same dark and lonely path as herself. Softly she asked. "And you say this Brunhilde, was the best out of all of them, huh?"

"Buffy. She was the Vampire Slayer."

"I'm a Vampire Slayer too. What's your point?"

"No, Buffy. She was _'The __Vampire__ Slayer_'. Prior to her, Slayer's were just known as … well, Slayer's. She put the 'Vampire' in 'Vampire Slayer'. She dispatched so many Vampires in her six-year tenure as a Slayer that she was so dubbed: 'The Vampire Slayer'. And this title was given to her by those that she hunted. The Vampires. Through the expanse of Europe, North to South, East to West, her name became one of notoriety by the Supernatural Community. She went down in history as: _'Brunhilde, the Vampire Slayer'_.

"After her passing, the Order, in an effort to envelop and take advantage of the legend that she had created for herself, decided to re-label all fresh Slayer's, calling them *all* '_Vampire'_ Slayers. After a few hundred years and possibly 60-70 Slayer's, the name finally stuck in the psyche of the Undead. Today you, as well as thousands of others use this title as though it was one you had fought for and earned. But the truth is, Buffy, you have been feeding off of the legend that she had given birth too eight hundred years before."

Buffy looked up at the portrait once more and found it difficult to believe that a girl so young, and yes, even quite beautiful had somehow become the Bogeyman's Bogeyman. "But she looks so innocent, gentle. Almost _'Angelic'_."

"This is merely a depiction of her, Buffy. A creation based upon the few physical references made of her in some of our records. This painting was actually done two-hundred-and-fifty years after her passing. Done by one of the true Master's of his Time as payment to being rescued from a succubus. He originally wished to paint the Slayer who saved him, but her Guardian felt that an honour like that would simply go to her head. So the Watcher suggested Brunhilde instead. This painting is near priceless, Buffy.

"When the old Council Building blew up, my heart all but leapt out of my chest when I had thought of this treasure being lost. And when it was discovered in the ruins, unharmed, I ordered that it be kept safe and secure so that when the new building was completed it could be placed once more in a position of privilege."

The Slayer shrugged. "It's not bad, Giles. But I really don't think it rates the kind of praise your giving it."

"Buffy, the artist was the famed Master Raffaello Sanzio da Urbino."

"Look, I get that he's pretty decent, if your interested in this type of style. I mean the guy definitely had a thing for his women being pale and sporting a bit of baby-fat. But …*"

"* Had a … *sigh*. Buffy, he was one of the Great Master's of the Italian Renaissance."

"So you've said. But I've never heard of this Raffaello-character, so he really couldn't have been that good."

"You've never heard of '_Raphael_'?"

The Slayer gulped as her eyes bulged. "Like the Ninja Turtle?"

The Englishman pinched the bridge of his nose in response to the question. "And you continue to ask why I and others find it difficult to take you seriously? Yes, Buffy, like the Ninja Turtle."

The Slayer's eyes could not leave the painted work as she estimated in her mind how much this portrait would now be on the open market if it's pedigree was discovered. "But shouldn't this be in a Art Gallery or a Museum?"

"Why? It belongs to the Council. It's Council Property. Besides, there are far too many enchantment's placed on it, so many that it would never be allowed to be placed on public display. These enchantments help preserve it's colour from fading, but they also saved it from being burnt to a crisp when The First tried to blow the Council up four-years ago."

Buffy couldn't stop her eyes from looking up and once more admiring the art work again, but now for completely different reasons. Her mother, who used to run the number one Art Gallery in Sunnydale (before the town became a sinkhole to nowhere), would have loved this. Hell, she probably would have sold her first born (which did not sit to comfortably with her for obvious reasons) for the opportunity to gaze at an unknown work from a Renaissance Master. She thought that she could look upon 'Brunhilde' all day now that she knew the truth of the painting origins. But she was here for a purpose and she could not allow herself be sidetracked.

"So all she did was kill Vamps, huh?"

"Of coarse not. But she was called during mid-13th Century. A time when most of Europe's skilled fighter's as well as other keepers of the peace were all drawn by their faith, the Pope and their King's to do battle in the Holy Land. With all the knight's, soldier's and other able bodied men fighting in Jerusalem, Vampires spread like plagues with very little resistance on offer. Children, Women, the elderly were all ripe sources of blood and merriment. If Brunhilde slayed only 50 Vampires a night, then that was considered by her a very slow night indeed."

As much as Buffy wanted to express to her mentor how impressed she was, she couldn't let the title of 'best slayer' go without a fight. "Yeah, well did she ever kill a full-blood Demon or a Hell God?"

"No. But then again she did not have the same level of support that you did, Buffy. You, however, have had in your collective arsenal over the years two powerful Wicca's, two souled vampires, a military protégé who was beefed up on steroids, a Technomage and a werewolf."

"Hey, Wolfy-Oz wasn't exactly an asset your making him out to be, especially during a full moon."

"Yes, yes. I concede that. But during the days and of coarse the nights when the moon wasn't in full phase. You have to admit, Buffy, that he was a genius on par with Willow, and as such was a major asset to the team."

"Hang-on. Your referring to the fact that he had a Van, aren't you?"

The Englishman blushed. "Well, his Van came in very handy, didn't it? Plus, everyone was able to fit in it without complaint. My sweet little Citroen could only carry so many."

"Tell me about it. Me and Willow usually ended up having to sit on people's laps. Nothing de-psyche's you more then when driving into battle having to get there being treated like a toddler." Buffy couldn't help but notice that Giles had excluded Xander from his rollcall of allies, and wondered if there was a specific reason for this or if he was hoping she had forgotten all about him. If that was the case, then she really believed he needed to have his head examined. Still, it didn't change how she was now feeling about this Brunhilde-chick. She wrapped her arms around herself, unaware that she was doing so. No, she wasn't liking this. It was, in her mind, creepy. She did not want to know about the fate of Brunhilde, because if someone who was so obviously Hardcore like her could have met her maker then what did that say about her potential ending? "Giles, is this distraction of Chosen Ones of yesteryear going somewhere? Because I thought we were talking about Lover's and Slayer's?"

Giles, never taking his eyes from the painting, answered the Slayer's question. His voice supporting an air of tragedy. "Anyone who has ever studied Slayer's, Buffy. And I mean *truly* studied them. They would, in their research, eventually come across the name of Brunhilde. Her accomplishments were so great that her adventures earned mention in other text's other then just Watcher Journals. She was a true Superstar of her Age. King's owed her their allegiances and she averted more then a dozen wars caused by various Supernatural Plot's. If it wasn't for her then the World as we know of it today would have been vastly different. When she was alive she could walk into any Court in the Land and be received with Ceremony. Her words could command armies. But with her passing, well, how quickly these people of power chose to forget. After her death, her name was quickly stricken from their Country's History and the mere utterance of her name would earn you and those who heard your voice a one-way-ticket to Prison."

"Why?"

"Because of who she was. A woman. A Slayer of the Supernatural. In a time when Christianity ruled, to admit that such darkness existed was borderline heretic. Besides, how could any monarchy admit that a mere girl was capable of saving their country when they're own Armies could not. Haven's, Buffy. You do know what happened to Joan of Arc, don't you? And her fate was met two hundred years after Brunhilde. When you are winning and have something to offer, then the World is your friend. But fail or die? That's when your true friend's reveal themselves."

The Slayer nodded, she was well aware how fickle people in authority could be. "Okay then, aside from breaking the all time Vamp killing record, what else did she do?"

"If you must know, you have laid witness to two of her greatest accomplishments. You still remember _'The Judge'_ don't you? Or did you always think he was born '_ready-to-assemble'_?"

"Sh … she did that?"

The Englishman nodded, finally grateful that Buffy was at last showing the former Slayer the respect she had earned. "Yes. No weapon forged by man could kill him, remember? But that did not mean she couldn't cut off his limbs and remove his head."

"Okay, I'm now officially uber-impressed. What was the other one?"

"Acathla."

"Really? Hang on, Kendra stated that Acathla was killed by a virtuous knight. Are you saying that Brunhilde was knighted as well?"

"No." Giles eyes carried a great deal of sympathy. "A vitreous knight did indeed bring down Acathla and converted him to stone. The Knight wielded a virgin blade of the purest silver, one that had been blessed by a hundred holy men for a hundred hours. It was forged to be used only once. Their plan was for Brunhilde to act as a distraction, one that would allow the knight to full fill his obligation.

"Brunhilde penetrated Acathla's Keep, as a small rag-tag army fought outside, keeping Acathla's soldier's engaged. On her route to his Throne Room she killed every one of his Demon Follower's and personal Guard. When she entered, the deadly resistance she had faced was clear by the very bulk of her assorted injuries. One half of her beaten, the other half of her near-dead. There, Acathla, sat on his Iron Throne, safe within a mystical circle that offered him protection. Drawing up all his strength so he could finally open a portal to Hell and complete a ritual that was his birthright and one that would end all human life on this planet.

"The Protected Circle prevented, Brunhilde, or anyone else from entering who wished to do Acathla harm. So instead the plan was to draw him out. And so she did. After killing scores of Demon and Vampire underlings, and with barely the strength to stand, let alone remain conscious. She defiantly stood before his circle and shouted out his cowardice. Saying that she would rather die at her own hands then have her glorious accomplishments be tarnished by dying at his. She then removed her breastplate, wedged the point of her spear between her exposed bosoms and the flagstones at her feet. Took a deep breath and without any fear she thrust herself forward upon the wooden blade. Impaling herself and dying before the eyes of the Demon King."

"No freakin' way!"

"This left Acathla confused, and understandably so. He first thought it was a trick. But he could see and smell the blood as it pooled around her. Surely it is no surprise to you, Buffy, that Slayer Blood is considered to be the most valuable and most addictive of all blood. Anyway, this was a temptation, Acathla, could not deny himself. Against all reason and sense of self-preservation he ventured out of the protection of his Circle, confident that his adversary was indeed dead. His senses were mesmerised by the deep and intoxicating aroma of red slowly flowing at his feet. So caught up in the feast before him he did not spy the Vitreous Knight you had earlier mention spring from concealment, plunging the silver sword deep into the Demon's chest, thereby turning him into stone and ending his threat.

"The rest you know. As a parting tribute to Brunhilde, the Knight swore to take the Demon King far away from any potential followers. People who might unwisely try and revive him. His destination was unknown, even to himself. He stated he would travel with his prize until he could not travel any longer. Somehow he made his way to America and buried it in an empty expanse of land. A place that would one day become known to us as Sunnydale. I have often considered the possibility that given that Acathla's power was to be able to open a portal to Hell, that the Knight, in burying the Stone Demon in what one-day would be thriving suburban city. That it was actually the unholy energies still being generated from Acathla's stone form which was the cause of the weakening of the dimension boarders separating Earth from Hell. And that it was Acathla's burial place that created Boca del Inferno aka 'the Hellmouth'."

Buffy stood stunned. Her mouth opened and closed like some fish. Eventually she did speak, and when she did it came out like Willow-gibberish. "This is huge, Giles. We're talking God is actually a giant fluffy kitten that poops candy, huge!"

The former Watcher chuckled at her reaction. "It is only a theory. It has some flaws. But given that Acathla was supposed to be able to open a portal to Hell and he was buried, coincidently on a Hellmouth, a place that was in itself a gateway to a Hell Dimension, well, join the dots."

The Slayer stood motionless, apprising every syllable and word. No doubt, this was a pleasing detour, but it still didn't address her question about living a loveless life. "Sorry, Giles, but what does this have to do with everything?"

"You mean about love and maintaining the discipline of not enacting upon this love?"

"Yeah."

"Well, she's your answer, Buffy. Anyone who has ever researched Slayer's and their history will eventually come across some material referencing her as to being the greatest one of all time. I can even now think of several mainstream texts off the top of my head which were penned in the last 600 years that does just that. And anyone who would bother to take the initiative and read up on the life and death of _Brunhilde, the Vampire Slayer_, they will learn of a story as tragic as anything written by Shakespeare himself. Only it would be more so because did indeed actually happen. The narrative of her exploits are even today still spoken as a bedtime story to many children throughout most of Eastern Europe. The tragic tale of '_The Slayer and the White Knight'_. Two Lover's destined to be together, and yet also fated to be kept apart. The vitreous Knight you had earlier referred to, Buffy, was the White Knight of the fable."

The Slayer blinked as she began to process the words.

"You can know love, Buffy, just as she did. You can know every joy that may come from the emotion and not feel deprived. But the physicality's of being able to act on that love? Well, as the Fairy Tale goes, Brunhilde and her Knight were aware that if they laid down with one another as husband and wife, that her 'Gifts' would be taken from her. And though both their hearts may have demanded such bliss, their sense of Duty to others overpowered any such thoughts towards their own personal happiness. You see, Buffy? Destined to be together and yet fated to always be apart."

Buffy couldn't help but let her eyes search out once more the beautiful, but obviously now sad face of the girl standing above her. "To be that in love with another and yet never being able to take the next step? I don't think I could have done that. It would have driven me around the bend."

At completing this sentence, Buffy's imagination seemed too splintered off from reality. This was not the first time this had ever happened to her, but usually, usually meaning 99.99 percent of the time it always occurred as she was asleep and dreaming. Only a few time had it ever happened when she was conscious. All her thoughts were now focusing on Brunhilde and her White Knight. And for the briefest second she felt as though she had been possessed by the memory of that Slayer. As though she was now tapping into the painfully raw emotion of the Chosen One framed above her. These 'out-of-body' moments were always significant and typically representative of past-Slayer lives. And as with these other times it left her momentarily feeling nauseous and experiencing a mental-brain-freeze.

In the brief seconds it took for her to regain some composure, she was now left with a small measure of emotional-wisdom towards the fated couple. So much so, that she truly believed what she was experiencing was phantom-memory of the Slayer Spirit and not just an overactive imagination.

It was almost as though she could feel the love the pair shared and yet had to continually deny. For the two to play their roles in this drama, knowing that death would surely meet one and only possibly touch the other, then that meant the two carried within them a respect and trust beyond common understanding. And in touching, for that moment, a ghostly feeling of the love Brunhilde had shared for her White Knight, Buffy knew that what Giles had said earlier was true. That there was no love that could compare to the affection of a 'Lover'.

As this impression started to fade, a shame that had been swimming in the periphery of her mind for the last few days revealed itself once more with a vengeance. If Xander was indeed the 'Lover' she now believed him to being. Then all the years of her playfully flirting with him (with no thoughts on her part of following through), of all the times she used to talk at length about Angel or Riley about how great they were as a boyfriend. And of coarse the less thought about her affair with Spike, the better. If Xander had loved her with all his heart from the first moment he laid eyes, just like the Knight did with Brunhilde, as with all the other Lover's in history, then what she did to him over the years, knowingly or not, must have been the worse torture imaginable.

She was the WORST person alive! How could she reconcile and justify such cruelty with his devotion. It was impossible. A small tear fell from her eye and she did not have the energy or self control to wipe it free.

Gently, Giles drew his Slayer into a fatherly embrace as he noticed the silent tears begin to roll down her cheek. At first she resisted his tenderness, but eventually she succumbed to the warmth of his body as he felt her sobs rise from his chest. He held her like this for minutes until she was finally able to compose herself and draw away from his fatherly concern.

Buffy wiped her eyes clear and backed herself up the distance of the large fireplace. She stared back up at the painting and when her eyes returned to her Watcher, she was again all business and in need of explanations. Giles, mentally recoiled. He was hoping that this affectionate moment they shared could have lasted a little longer and taken the edge off her anger. It had been far too long since he had been able to comfort one of his 'daughters'. But alas he knew that look in Buffy's eyes well and he knew that she was once more back in what she dubbed 'mission-mode'. Aware that answers would be further sought. So, Giles, continued without having to be asked.

"We should not confuse children's stories for fact, however. The Fairy Tale is all about teaching little children the importance of sacrifice and duty to their neighbour. Sadly the truth of their love is far more painful and upsetting."

Fighting every impulse to control her lips from quivering at the romantic ordeal these ill-fated Lover's had endured she tried to speak with an air of authority. "What do you mean?"

Giles started to walk away from the portrait, heading towards the large window of the London City that always seem to claim his gaze when he was deep at thought. "We are not entirely sure of the young Knight's name. White is used in many cultures to describe purity and faithfulness. As such it has been generically attributed and fostered on to him because it carried the truth of his inner quality. Historically, he could have rode under any banner. Red, Blue, Green, even Pink if it so pleased him. We will never truly know, nor do we know which family he was aligned to, or specifically, which coat of arms was his. All we know is that he was indeed a Knight and was either the second, or youngest son of a very influential Noble. A Noble Patriarch that disowned him the moment he swore his allegiances to Brunhilde, a commoner."

Turning sideways so he could address his Slayer better, Giles, offered a small smile. Something, Buffy, knew he always did when he was about to try and 'educate' her. "Back then, Buffy, the honour of adventure, wealth and fame always followed the first-born in Aristocratic Families. So it was the elder son's right to pick up his sword and shield and travel to the Crusade's. In so doing he left his younger brother burdened with tending to their father's lands. Ensuring that Taxes were paid by the people who worked the land and that tributes to the Church were kept safe from thieves and looters. Basically, he helped enforce the King's Law. And usually, through no fault of their own and typically through only succession of birth, the son's who were forced to stay behind were often labelled and thought of by the masses as cowards."

"Pretty stupid if you ask me. Wouldn't they want as many able bodied people at the Crusades as possible?"

"Not if it risked the family line, Buffy. One male sibling would always remain behind to carry out the line of succession if the first-and-or-second son died on the battle field. It was considered a failsafe of sorts and a duty to the family."

"Oh. Makes sense I suppose."

"Well, the White Knight's story goes like this. One day during one of his Patrol of his father's Land, he observed strange coloured smoke arising in the distance. Concerned that the origin of the smoke would be a campsite belonging to Poacher's, he decided to investigate. What he found, however, was not Poacher's."

"What was it?" The blonde asked with genuine interest.

"Hags. Crones. Witches. A large Collection of them. A veritable Summit of magical evil."

"I wouldn't recommend you say that with Willow around, you know how she feels about the whole witchy-stereotype thing."

"Yes, well these were women of different temperament. The Crusades were not just an excellent time for Vampire's, Buffy. The preceding Dark Ages was a utopian time for those who could wield magic and knew of the secret art of potions. Wizards, Warlocks, Witches. Each and all carried a certain amount of respect and power in their communities. But the rapid onset of the Medieval Era caught many by surprise. The Medieval Era embraced different philosophies and values, and as such it was a dangerous time for anyone practicing in Magic. If you were seen as a disagreeable person and so much as sneezed with an accent you could have been accused of casting a spell. And then before you had a chance to shout out you were innocent, you could have been either drowned or burnt at a stake. But with the Crusades and with so many able and righteous men heading to Jerusalem, Witches now saw it as an opportunity to make a claim and take revenge for the past two hundred's of years of persecution. With the objective reclaiming the top of the proverbial Totem Pole and never becoming anyone's victim again. But before they commenced their campaign they first they had to divvy up the territories fairly so no infighting and bad will would happen when they took action and went to War with the '_normals_'."

"Went to War? Isn't that an exaggeration? How many where there? Five, six, a dozen?"

"Buffy, at most you have only ever had to face at maximum three fully trained and halfway competent witches at once. And even then we have only ever walked away by the skin of our collective teeth. Can you imagine what would have happened to an army of drafted middle-aged farmer's who were sent against a band of 40 to 70 witches? Countries would fall like dominoes, and there would be no one around to oppose them because all their Knight's and most capable Soldier's were in another land getting heat stroke and dysentery."

Buffy bit down on her lower lip like a rebuked child. "So what happened?"

"The young knight, overhearing their plan of conquest and knowing that no one would ever believe him even if he went to seek help. Decided to take advantage of 'Surprise'. He waited until all had gone to sleep, snuck into their large camp under the security of the night. He then proceeded to hack and chop at every bed he came across. Cutting off as many of their head's as he possibly could and delivering killing blow after killing blow. Within moments the majority of the witches were awaken by the death cries of their 'Sisters'. And by the time they were able to gather their wits and work out what was happening, valuable seconds had been wasted. Even more was spent as they all started to get their minds focused to do battle with their assailant. All the while the Knight continued to carve his way through the throng of Hag's. Eventually he was subdued by the last three standing, the rest he had successfully killed."

"Pretty Gutsy. Pretty Stupid too."

"It is for this very reason that 'Three' is seen as a Power Number by Witches today. Magical wielder's, as you know Buffy, are just as susceptible to superstition as anyone else. So for so many witches to be reduced to so few in mere minutes, well, the few that survived looked upon this as a sign. And though many _New Age Books_ have different origins to the whole '_Power of Three'_ Mythology, this, Buffy, I assure you, is the true one."

"So I'm guessing, Brunhilde then showed up and saved the day, right?"

"No. The three witches were not inclined to kill the young knight. He was young. Fit. And handsome. There was no gain to it. So they placed a suspension spell on him and kept him prisoner. It took a full year for Brunhilde to hear stories about this new 'Coven' and investigate."

"So what did they do with him during that year? Just keep him frozen?"

"They did whatever they wanted, Buffy."

"I don't understand."

"They raped him. Buffy. Over and over again. Day or night. If one of them was bored and wished pleasures that only a young, handsome, and muscular man could bestow then they would thaw him out and then cast a lust-enchantment upon him. A Lust Enchantment is, as you know, Buffy, just as formidable as a 'Love Spell' and you above all others know exactly how powerful one of those can be. A Lust Enchantment is quicker and more focused towards the physical act. A Lust Spell can have a man, or woman, consumed so much in passion that any ability to reason or offer restraint would be lost to them. You could end up humping a mouldy old sofa cushion infront a group of friend's, not being able to stop yourself."

"Old party prank, _Ripper_?"

Giles, looked away embarrassed. "Even I had limits during my rebellious days, Buffy. That particular wind-up belonged solely to Ethan. And it earned him more then one-black eye and broken rib I can tell you. But yes, a Lust Enchantment, though consuming has a very short shelf-life as it hastily fades from the subject with the … err … 'completion of the act'. At which point the Knight was immediately frozen once again. Cursed to endure the memory of his forced love making on a woman who was possibly old enough to be his Great-Grandmother."

"Eeeww!"

"Yes, well, try and imagine being raped several times a day, Buffy, and under those circumstances. With no thought's of rescue. This was a very puritan time, the sins that he was forced to perform for the amusement of the Crones, he would believe were attributed to himself. Each vile act was seen as a blemish and burden to his soul. Try and phantom his thought process as he was trapped day in and day out. Motionless. Believing that with his death his soul would be destined to Hell for all eternity."

"But he was rescued, right? You said, Brunhilde, came across some low-down gossip on a Coven."

"Yes. After over a year of captivity, the Knight was rescued. As soon as Brunhilde killed the last Crone. The various spells that existed due to their casting, faded. The Knight was a free man once more. And so grateful was he to the service, Brunhilde, had performed that he swore on his honour and his remaining days to be always at her side."

"And he was her 'Lover'? Quite a co-inky-dink."

"Not really. As I said earlier, Buffy, Slayer's and Lover's are fated. Whether it takes months, years, decades, the two paths will always cross. Even if he had not been captured, as she was entering his father's lands there would have been likelihood that they may have met one another in her travels. But still once Chosen and Lover meet, it is always the Slayer who must decide how she wishes to proceed. Will she balance out contentment and happiness as important, or will she judge some other variable as more significant. You might consider yourself to being placed in a Cage, Buffy, due to this destiny. But that does not necessarily mean that once you are given the key, you should not use it to open the door to your own freedom."

Buffy felt immediately flushed at Giles depiction, and mentally winced. It sounded too much like the example Lady Croft had given her two-nights earlier about being an animal being raised in a penned off area and then having the gate finally opened for them. When Croft had used that example, she had felt immediately insulted to the comparison. "So what happened to them?"

"Him? Nothing much is written. As I had said, as soon as he swore his allegiance to Brunhilde, his father, who was at first relieved at his survival became angered that he had pledged his devotion to a Commoner instead of maintaining their family allegiance to their King. He was immediately disowned of his title and any future claim to his birthright. His Knighthood, however, was one he had earned, as such only the King himself could rescind such an accomplishment. So from that day on he had 'no-name', no family that would even acknowledge him as theirs. This is why the history books only refer to him as _the Knight_, or _the White Knight_, or _the Knight with the Pure Heart_ and not by name."

"The two, Brunhilde and the Knight, proceeded to travel together. Fighting Demon's and Vampires. But him, because of the shame of his disownment, he never took credit or glory for his deeds. Infact, some Scholars, myself included, believe that half of the Vampire's and Demon's accredited to Brunhilde were actually his own kills. Eventually the two became close. Incredibly close."

"But they never did the '_Dance-with-no-pants_'? Is it because he was ashamed that he had been disowned?"

"That is one theory, Buffy. But I do not believe that is the case. Because if he was truly ashamed towards his lowly status then he would never have dared show her any affection or kindness. And there is an abundance of evidence that suggests that he did. Just not sexual."

"Then what happened?"

"Think about what happened to the man, Buffy. He was repeatedly raped by Hags for a year. I suspect he was traumatised by the experience. So much so that any physical intimacy was likely something he could not endure without encountering painful reminders on how he had been repeatedly violated. Despite a single referencing in the Book of Badyor that both Brunhilde and the Knight, shared a tent and even possibly a bed. Brunhilde, at her death, was discovered to be chaste … meaning in today's language, Buffy, that she was still a virgin."

The blonde was speechless. Now she knew why Giles had provided Brunhilde as his answer to her earlier question. She was so focused upon how things were related to her that she didn't even consider how they must have been for others. Brunhilde who loved her Knight, yet her merest touch or affectionate gesture would stir in her soul mate the memories of the cruellest of abuse. Subconsciously, Buffy, placed both her hands over her heart. Giles was right, this was a tale just as tragic as any written by William Shakespeare.

"When we finished our training as a Watcher, it is expected that we commit two years of our lives putting together a Thesis of sorts. Many choose Famed Vampires and Demons. A few focus on the training methods of Slayer's past. Occasionally you may get a forward thinker who will structure a report on the pro's and cons of certain magic and potions. Mine however had me sent to the British Museum. A place where I spent the next 20-years polishing swords and other artefacts in the Middle Ages Exhibit for my 'affront'."

Buffy's right eyebrow rose in curiosity. She remembered Willow mentioning that he was once a Curator of sorts at the British Museum when they had first met. She even raised that topic a few times later with her Watcher, but he always quickly deflected it. Now to discover that it may have been a result of some punishment, that was just bizarre. "What the Hell did you do?"

"Whereas my peers did the predictable topics, I did the _un_-predictable. And in so doing I made a few claims that did not sit well with my Teacher's."

"What did you write about?"

The Englishman drove his hands into his pockets. Mentally preparing himself for the worst that was to come. This, he knew would be the turning point of their 20-minute discussion. With a timbre full of gentleness and regret he spoke the words that would now take this conversation into a darker and more dire place. "Would it surprise you to learn that I wrote about 'Athena's Lover's and their impact upon Slayer's?"

Buffy's back stiffened. For her to now learn such a thing would not have surprised her at all, and deep down in her soul, she really wished that it had.

Sorry, about the long wait. As you can see there is more to these 'True Loves' then Buffy, realised. She thought her answers would be simple, but she has just discovered, as will most of her life, nothing is ever really simple. Alice has quite literally walked through the looking-glass, with this one. Every question you ever wished to know about the Slayer is coming in the next few chapter's and it will leave Buffy's World shattered.

Read and Review. I love that stuff. But please, no flames. I'm a very sensitive guy :-)


	8. Chapter 7b

The one thing Buffy Summers always hated was when people used analogies to describe something. She hated it because unless the other person wasn't already clued in on the topic that was being used to compare one thing with the other then the whole purpose of it was lost. For herself she always favoured her explanations to either clothes or shopping. But how often do people ever use these? Most often then not analogies were used by guys, and because they were …well, 'guys', when they did they typically had to use something pretty lame and stupid to make as a comparison, such as sports. And well, she just wasn't a Sports type of Gal.

At any rate, if she was forced to explain herself to Giles (not that she was planning too any time soon), and had to make him understand what it was she was doing at that far distant point in the future. She suspected she would have used the old tried and true metaphor of 'fishing' (was fishing even a sport?). She had baited the hook, cast the line into the water and now she was waiting for a big ole bite so that she could reel in her '_catch-of-the-day_'. But thus far all she was getting were an assortment of nibbles on her line.

Sure, it was true, Giles, had made some startling revelations. Ones that she found informative and enlightening. And most likely, she was probably the first Slayer in close to three-hundred years to have heard the things that she had been thus far told. But as interesting as it all was, it was still nothing she could stuff and then mount over her fireplace.

Fishing was generally all about patience and timing. Two things she knew she was not famous for possessing. Which meant only one thing to her, Giles, was playing the same game she was. He was feeling her out, and not in a creepy-pervy way either. He was trying to see what info would make her leap into reeling-action. He was nibbling at her bait, not chomping down on it. Either that, or his overall plan was to bog her down with so much information that when it was time for the 'big reveal' she would have been so overwhelmed with data that she wouldn't know which end was up and she might just miss the significance of what was being exposed to her. In truth, she wouldn't have put either possibility beyond him at this stage. This had just become all about who would blink first and show their hand.

Unfortunately, Buffy felt that she would undoubtedly become the loser in this game. But not through lack of trying that was for sure. She just didn't have an inkling how much longer she could remain composed and pretend to be a clueless blonde stereotype. Especially when very muscle and impulse in her body was screaming out for her to grab him by his tweed vest and shake her answers from him.

Her former Watcher's experience at the 'Waiting Game' easily surpassed hers, so she had to be flexible to every revelation and offer the appropriate reaction. So far it had been established that he knew of the 'True Love' clause in the Slayer Curse, and he had even given her a bit of a back-story towards the volatility and danger of a Lover (if that love happened to be lost through extraordinary means). He had also shared the tragic beauty of the legend of Brunhilde and her White Knight, a true affair of the heart. A love formed in both restraint and respect of the other.

But now there was the bombshell that her ex-Watcher was not only aware of the Lover's existence, but had also written thesis three-decades ago on how the Council might use that very same love to their advantage! Was she part of some bizarre personal experiment by him to prove his dusty old theories right? Did this mean her happiness was sabotaged just so Giles could extend the middle finger to the Council and shout out that he was right and they were wrong? She silently prayed that this was not the case, because if it was then that middle finger would be the first thing she snapped off his body, with his male reproductive organ running a close second.

But despite all these additional questions buzzing through her brain, she knew she had to remain focused and not permit her mind to be sidetracked. Her original question had now long fallen to a lengthy explanation, and she knew she had to wear all of this out until Giles slipped up somehow. All she really had wanted was for him to confirm the truth. That, and possibly reveal the identity of her '_Lover of Athena_'. That it was Xander and that she hadn't been deluding herself over the past couple of days with some paranoid wish.

One name was all she was asking for. Why was that so hard?

**_6FD_**

In Rupert Giles experience there is nothing more unnerving then a silent Slayer. Buffy Summer's especially. He would happily take the ranting and the indignations. But silence? That always, ALWAYS boded poorly for anyone when Buffy held her tongue. He raised his head and met the Slayer's eyes, only to have his concerns and the trepidation met with a calming visage. He had expected her famed '1000-yard glare' about his recent disclosure. But her present look only offered him the impression that she had been long expecting what he had just shared. And this, in truth, troubled him more then her silence and glare ever could.

With her Watcher's attention firmly back on her, Buffy forced herself out of her inner musings and strolled passed her former mentor and retook her chair. Gaining some satisfaction that she had somehow through so bizarre twist of circumstance somehow had once more gained the upper hand in their exchange.

Internally, she was furious. Of that there was little point denying, to others or even herself. But if she had learned anything from her recent exposure to Lara Croft, it was that sometimes a drop of honey was needed to catch the fly. Or in this case, to claim information. If she was to do the predictable 'tell-me-what-you-know' and blow her stack. Then Giles would most likely sanitise his data, changing it, forcing and warping the truth. Twisting it into as favourable a light as possible to avoid any expected retaliation by her.

So in order to counter this expected counter-tactic she had to take a 'forest' out of the Tomb Raider's Book. She needed Giles to believe that she could handle what ever he could share with her in a calm and rational manner, no matter how bad it might be.

There would be time enough later for her to set his wardrobe on fire.

She coolly and with SLOW purpose crossed her legs; offering to the room's other occupant an overly relaxed posture. An attitude she tried hard to maintain as she waited for her former Watcher to join her on his side of the desk. When Giles sat down, Buffy's lips parted, choosing herself to be the one to take the initiative and keep the proverbial bouncing ball moving along. "If I remember correctly these Thesis's are supposed to be a pretty big deal, right? Part of earning a Doctorate, or something."

"That's correct, Buffy. Every Watcher who has earned the title for the past hundred years has a Doctorate. Either in Ancient History, Languages, Anthropology or Archaeology. Mine was a Double Doctorate of Ancient History and Dead Languages."

"How come this is news to me? I mean, you've never introduced yourself as Doc Giles before, not once. Why the big secret? If I was a Doctor of anything I'd be crowing about it to everyone."

"We tend to keep these titles on the quiet, Buffy, as generally the follow-up question for most Watcher's is always '_What are you a Doctor of_?' And this often leads to more questions then many feel comfortable in addressing. But you are correct, I have never introduced myself as a Doctor because my Thesis was adamantly rejected as being nothing but trollop. Unsubstantiated and unproven garbage. One of my Professors's even claimed that it was not even worth being converted into Confetti."

"Really? That sound's pretty harsh. Can they even really do that? Oppose a Thesis, I mean?" Buffy raised her eyebrows in genuine surprise.

"If there is a united opinion that the findings within are all baseless, incideouary, without merit, or lacking in any reasonable link between theory and conclusion. Then yes, Buffy, a person's Thesis can indeed be rejected by any overseeing body."

"Ouch." This was definitely news to her. She always considered Giles as one of the smartest men she knew. To hear that he had been black-balled because of the whole 'Lovers' subject was quite and genuinely startling to her. "So what exactly was it about your Paper that would piss the Council off so much that they then fast-tracked a promising young-Watcher-in-training like yourself into a dead-end job at a Museum? Doing nothing with his time and the extensive training he received but to arrange dusty displays for the next 20 or so years."

The Englishman studied the deep coloured surface of his desk for a time before answering her curiosity. His voice trying to offer a tinge of fatherly amusement in its tone. As though he was speaking of a long ago dalliance and indiscretion of his youth that had been till now long forgotten.

"I proposed a revolutionary notion; one that I knew at the time would bend its fair share of noses out of place, and to be frank with you Buffy, that was really the whole point and purpose of the exercise. To ruffle feathers and get people to consider new idea's instead of remaining bogged down to the old status quo. Unfortunately, it didn't work out as well as I had liked. I wanted to shake the foundations of the Council, but at the end of the day the only one being shaken was me. I guess my choice of language was a tad harsh and the wrong kind of feathers, belonging to the wrong kind of bids, got ruffled. That being said, I felt my conclusions were still sound ones, and I wasn't prepared to walk down the 'safe path' just because some of the 'Higher Ups' became insulted by the content of my works. Even when they offered me the opportunity to re-submit on a more pleasing subject, I declined. I felt an overwhelming obligation to share my theories with my peers, no matter how unpleasant those theories were to be received."

Buffy's expression did not change; it remained fixed and expectant upon her target, but inwardly she had to respect the stubborn stance Giles had taken and she knew that for him to have done so knowing that there would have been repercussions would not have been easy.

After a few additional moments' of silence, Giles, nodded, more to himself then to his blonde haired visitor. Aware that he had now, more or less, opened Pandora's Box willingly and that they had both passed the point of no return in regards to his disclosure. The best he could hope to do now in conveying his past opinions to his former Charge would be to illustrate to her his genuine concern to the welfare of the Slayers' in general had always his chief priority. And that his motives were not ones that were originally designed to betray anyone specifically, especially her.

Giles surveyed the room for a moment, gathering his thoughts before he spoke anew. "For centuries, Buffy, efforts had been made by my Predecessor's to keep Slayer's and Lover's separate, for all the obvious reasons that you are only now partly aware of."

Buffy's brow crunched in confusion at the key word of that last sentence. '_Partly_'. How much more info was there for her to learn?

"As keeping both parties apart from one another ensured that our various Slayer-Charges lived out their days wholly committed towards their assorted destinies, fore however long that might be. My Thesis, however, challenged the reasoning behind this prevalent approach and proposed the idea that the personal and social isolation that most Slayer's had been subjected to by previous Watcher's and Council's were all ill conceived ideas. That this arcane method of supervision and organization was both cruel and harmful towards these various Slayers' independent development and that they desperately needed to be superseded by more modern thoughts and approaches. That a Slayer's combative abilities and sustainability were essentially also tied in with their self-confidence and their connection to society in general."

The Blonde Slayer nodded. So far she liked what she was hearing. But she remained uncommitted to praising his decades old position as she did not, as yet, understand what exactly the full argument of his Report was. "So what you're saying in a nutshell is that you pretty much challenged everything that had been done with Kendra. Right? About her living alone on that Compound in Jamaica with only her Watcher as company?"

Giles nodded his head. "Exactly. Kendra wasn't the first to bare such training and conditioning in the preparation of her destiny as a Slayer. She was, unfortunately, just one of the most recent. Mr Anthony Zabuta, her Watcher, was very Old-School where it came to such things." Giles shoulder slouched in sadness as he considered what Kendra's life must have been like for that final year of her existence. The loneliness, the endless Watcher Dogma as well as the countless hours of training.

"As such, I doubt someone like yourself who has maintained a healthy circle of friends and were not hidden away from the World could ever really appreciate what a truly lonely life it would have been for her. Still, it did create in her a very dedicated and focused Warrior to the Cause. You could even say that she represented the 'Ideal' of what The Council eagerly sought from their various Charges. And all she had to do to achieve this proud status was to cut off all ties with the outside world. Her family, friends and any hopes for a future-life. The only future that was allowed to exist for her was the one dictated to her by Zabuta. Thereby making him, her Watcher, her only source of wisdom, guidance and singular-reliance in this large and very scary World."

Buffy refused to turn her head away despite her internal disgust at hearing what she had just heard. Still she felt the need to stare Giles down even though this dated-doctrine was obviously not his own. She had to let him know that she held the Council accountable to the loneliness that had, until recently in the general scheme of things, always been inflicted upon her 'sisters' and not just Kendra.

As far as she was concerned, Kendra, had not only died a hero, but she had died a good friend. She wasn't 'alone' in this World despite what she had obviously been led to believe and she wasn't some example to an esoteric training style. Kendra had died defending and protecting the people Buffy had loved. True, Kendra may have been a tad intense and rigid, but she had a heart, a soul and a sense of humour that was unique, dark and quirky. Even to this day she still referred to her stake as '_Mr Pointy_', a tribute to the Jamaican-beauty's memory as this was also what she had named her own Stake. Hearing how Kendra had been forcibly subjected to a training of solitude, solitude that the Council and its minions judged as 'normal', well, hearing this only made her blood boil even hotter then it was a few moments before.

But still Buffy maintained a calm and composed face as she replied her former Watcher's earlier words about the treatment of her Jamaican friend. "Maybe it's just me, Giles, but isn't that tactic exactly how most Cult's operate? Are you implying that this is what the Watcher Council is? A Cult?"

The Englishman squirmed at her claim and question. "Err, yes. Isolation and then establishing an endearing dependence to an authority figure is usually seen as the norm in such things. And coincidently it was something I myself made reference too in my Thesis. On the first page actually. A reference that was not, as I stated earlier, looked favourably upon by the High Council. The tragedy at Jonestown, Buffy, had happened only a few months earlier and was, I'm sorry to say, a Worldwide Media sensation. So I chose to take full advantage of that misfortune by emphasising the comparisons between it and our own operations. That we were doing nothing more then creating blind and docile followers. People who did what was instructed of them and never being permitted the right to question the purpose of doing things a different way or taking the initiative. I even formalised this issue by documenting in the opening paragraph that all Watcher's and member's of the Council should all stop '_Drinking the Kool Aide_' of the Past. A phrase that was starting to become quite popular with people my age at the time, and for us: 'The Future-Watchers' to all start thinking outside of the inflexible confines of the recommended Training Practices. Not only for the longstanding fate of The Order, but also for the wellbeing of our future Slayer's."

Buffy had to admit, if what Giles had said was true, then what he did took a lot of guts. But gut's or not, she still wasn't prepared to give him any quarter. "Drinking the … You actually *said* that?"

"Wrote it in fact. Probably not one of my brightest ideas at the time. But as you know, Buffy, when I was younger I had a thing about conformity as well as authority figures. Maybe if I hadn't started off with such negative phrasing then they probably would have been more lenient and even-handed with their judgement."

"Ya think?"

Giles shrugged his shoulders in reply; there was little point in arguing over what had happened literally thirty years ago. "I guess now I'll never really know. But I argued that by installing such rigidity in the Slayer's training and by encouraging their dependence to an assigned Watcher that we, as an Order, were not permitting our Slayer's any opportunities to think for themselves. Or to grow as an independent Operative."

"Yeah, we wouldn't want to have a Slayer capable of making her own judgement calls out in the field, would we?"

Giles offered her a playful smirk towards this reply. "Buffy, you are well acquainted with Mr Quentin Traver's."

Buffy snorted out her answer with as much contempt as she could muster. "Unfortunately."

"Would it surprise you to learn that he is … or rather *was*, by far one of the most liberal minded Official's in Council History? And a true and genuine advocate for us before the High Council?"

"Shut the front door! Really?" Yes, hearing something like that really did surprise her.

Rupert gently nodded. "Yes, he was. And even though we, as a group, occasionally found ourselves in opposition with him as well as his expectations of us. He was never actually our 'enemy'. In reality, he was a true campaigner for us against the High Council. Often standing up in meetings and defending us, our works and our unique way of completing our assorted Mission's. If you like I can easily present you with the Minutes of those gathering's."

The Slayer shock her head in disbelief. "I don't believe it!"

"It's true. When he 'fired' me, during your Senior Year, he was actually trying to protect me from the Council's retribution. They had been displeased with my management of you for a very long time, feeling that I had offered you far too much freedom and leniency. You sleeping with Angel, a Vampire, was all the ammunition they needed. That and the fact that it took you close to six-months to address the threat that he posed as Angelus and that he had killed over two-hundred innocent people as you appeared to sit around and do nothing, was to them just icing on the cake."

"Two hundred? Are you sure? I thought it would have been a lot lower."

"For most Vampire's, yes. They kill and drain victims only when their hunger is approaching. In a majority, that's typically one kill every 4-7 days. Angelus, however, loved killing. And he never really needed a reason to do so."

"But still …."

"Just because you and I were not keeping track, Buffy, it doesn't mean that others were not. Angelus possessed a certain flare that was all his own and it would have stood out amongst the Town's Coroner's Report like a sore and infected thumb. And though Angel was 'dead', he still possessed fingerprints and a disregard for the Law. Evidence of his darker-self's crimes was quite abundant. If the Council hadn't used its resources to hack into these Forensic Report's and make pain's to remove trace evidence. Angel would never have been able to acquire his Private Investigator's Licence. Don't look so surprised, Buffy. It would not have served the Council if actual physical evidence could identify and reveal the existence of Vampire's to the World. Their motive's in 'saving' Angel was purely self-serving. Just more evidence of a 'Clean-up' that they had to perform in our place.

"If I refused to 'retire' when Traver's offered it to me, then the Council would have had to force the issue. Probably by introducing a couple of drops of Hemlock in my afternoon tea. By publicly 'firing' me from my duties, Traver's most likely saved my life. It was either that or demotion, he could have just as easily re-assigned me to Timbuktu. Either that or Ordered my return back to Council HQ, thereby keeping me under the High Council's thumb for another twenty years."

"Kinda like what the Council did with you and the Museum?"

"Quite. In letting me go, yet still permitting me to work at the School that you attended. I became a 'free-agent'. He had purposefully unbinded my hands so that I might work with you as an independent and not someone under the strict operations of the Order. He was even able to delay Wesley's deployment to us for a month so that you and I might be able to readjust to our new dynamic."

"So you're saying that all this time that I though he was a first rate a-hole. That Traver's was actually looking out for me … 'us'?"

The Englishman nodded, and if there was any doubt in this gesture, he then offered his voice. "Yes."

"But he was always … well he was always UN-nice to me, Giles?"

The Englishman shook his head in the negative. "True, But most of that was for the benefit of the entourage that travelled with him. He couldn't have them reporting back that he dealt with you and I in a favourable manner could he? Outwardly he remained as impartial as he dared. But still, that didn't mean he agreed with everything that we did. There were aspects of our operation that he could not condone. The chief among them was the company and allegiances you and I chose to keep."

Buffy's brow crunched in confusion, allowing Giles to explain further.

"His primary concerns, Buffy, did not stem from the inclusion of 'amateurs' like Willow, Cordelia, Xander and Oz in your nightly activities. As they had proven their independent worth time-and-time again. But rather that we, you and I, had possibly tainted their lives with unnecessary danger and had prevented them from ever living a normal and oblivious lifestyle.

"True, we could argue that we never forced any of them and that they became involved with us willingly. But with, Traver's, all he saw was wasted youth caught up in the so-called-glamour and the danger of a fight that was well and truly beyond their comprehension. And who can really blame him? Can we say with certainty that Willow's life wouldn't have been safer and better if she hadn't remained with us and she hadn't become caught up with her fascination of Witchcraft? How about Cordelia? Would she still be alive now? Tara? Anya? Joyce or Jenny? How about Xander? Would he have remained fit and healthy? Would any of their lives have benefited from us distancing ourselves from them instead of embracing them tightly to our cause?

"We probably couldn't see what he saw because we were both too close and too emotionally invested in their friendships. But from Quentin's perspective all he saw was a group of young people who were not Slayer's or had been properly trained since birth, running head-on to an expected early death. He was never against us, Buffy; he just wished we chose our colleagues with more discrimination."

"I don't … don't believe it, Giles."

"You undoubtedly remember his critique of our Team prior to our battle with Glorificus?"

"I remember that he and his underlings tried to kick-off the team everyone I depended upon the most to watch my back."

"Do you recall who he was most anxious to have removed from our ranks?"

The Slayer didn't even need to think. "Xander."

"Yes, Xander. Everyone else in our group had been touched by magic and the Supernatural. All except him. He was the only 'normal' amongst us. The only one who could have a life beyond the hunt. Traver's wasn't trying to steal a resource from you, Buffy. He was trying to *protect* him for you. But alas, you did not want Xander to be protected, but rather you wished him to be neck-deep in the fray with the rest of us."

Buffy had to admit that hearing all this now put Quentin in a different frame of light in her mind and that she now regretted all the nasty and snidely remarks she had ever made at his expense. Especially after how Giles had said that the Senior Englishman had tried to keep Xander safe. But she, at the time, had become so distrustful of the Council that if they had said that the night was dark, she would immediately oppose that theory just for spite sake that it was light.

"Quentin Travers, Buffy, despite everything always dealt with you and me both directly and with complete fairness. Never once sending a subordinate to do his dirty work, which was his preview. He always looked us straight in the eye and he was always willing to have an open mind in our dealings. And when he was proven wrong, he accepted full responsibility for being such."

Again, as much as Buffy hated to admit it, she had to once more agree with Giles on these points. Traver's may have been thought by her as a nuisance and a thorn in her side on more then several occasions. But he was always a pure class act as he was being such. He wasn't either vindictive or judgemental. The decisions he made towards her and her friends were always ones that were based upon the information he had available to himself at the time. And though he represented the Will of the Council, when he made a decision (even when that resolution opposed what the Council was wanting) that decision was as good as being chiselled a foot deep in Granite.

"So in understanding this, Buffy, you can probably appreciate just how scandalously my Paper was looked upon by others in the Order for them to have taken the measures that they did. That they would effortlessly excommunicate me to the National Museum, to languish for twenty long years performing Walking Tour's for school children on excursion's, before ever showing me a tuppence worth of forgiveness.

"The principle argument, one of several dozen, of the Council towards my Thesis was that Slayer's are far too impulsive and temperamental to ever be allowed to have their own 'head'. And after overseeing your development for several years, Buffy, I can clearly see what they were alluding too. You, as with Faith, rely too much upon your initial impression's to guide your actions. You're … 'gut' and intuitions, and not cool and unbiased logic. These are flaws in character that has bought about the pre-mature death of many of your Calling. At the time, and with the arrogance of youth, I thought these were failings that could be addressed with the proper encouragement and guidance. But the Council remained firm; they deemed that Slayer's needed structure and a reliable chain-of-command in order for them to operate effectively. As providing such clear their minds and helped remove doubt and confusion during critical moments.

"It is the same philosophy that was embraced by the Japanese Samurai of old. The full focus on one single task at a time, and whatever that task may be to perform it to the best of their ability. The Samurai did not allow themselves to be sidetracked by alternative thought during the commission of their duties. Whether it was constructing a Haiku or performing a simple Tea Ceremony, they did so with full complete focus and care. If they are in a battle, then they live solely in each second and the moment of that battle. Constrained to the singular task and duty that must be done and not be distracted over what will, or could, come after. This as a strategy, Buffy, has worked and been proven successful in training Slayer's for hundred's of years."

"But that wasn't the case with Faith or Robin's Mom, Nikki?" Buffy sounded out. "They weren't locked away or brainwashed into being '_good little soldier-girls'_ like Kendra was."

"No, they weren't. But then again Faith and Nikki Woods were both Slayer's who had been 'Called' in a high density urban development. Boston and New York City. '_Locking them away_' and blinding them to what was going on in the world would have been impractical and near impossible."

Buffy drew closer her cup and saucer that had remained resting on the desk for the past five minutes. No! She had to remain focused. She was here for answer's and as interesting as what Giles was saying was she needed to learn more about these Lover's of Athena. She needed more then just 'nibbles' "Impractical and Impossible. But your just dodging my original question Giles, which is where do you and these Lover's come in? What do you know?"

The sudden directness of the question caused Giles to pause in his place. After several seconds that seemed to Buffy to last hours, the Englishman answered her as he gestured towards the Painting that hung over the fireplace. The one he had drawn Buffy's attention too earlier. "Brunhilde and her Knight, Buffy. That is your answer. As I told you earlier, she is recognised as being the greatest Slayer, not only of her own time, but of *ALL* time. She was also my personal hero, and I wished too see if it was theoretically possible to make a repeat of her historic acclaim.

"In my research I discovered that the only thing truly differing her from other Slayer's was not a myriad of circumstances, as each Slayer's challenges are always quite different then those of predecessor's and followers. But rather one key difference. One that was significant and set her apart from all the others. She was the only Slayer, that I was aware of, who after being exposed to the Love of her Life, and had chosen to love him in the emotional sense and forlorn the physical one."

Buffy jerked her head around to look at the Painting once more. The remembered respect she had felt for her predecessor had now evolved into pity and sadness with her sudden 'emotional-flashback' several minutes before. She was unwilling to claim that this was all her imagination; the torrent of passion she had felt was far too acute and strong for it to have been make believe. From some recess within her, she knew, just *knew*, that she had somehow tapped into the eternal regret of the now long-dead Slayer. And inwardly, she now wondered if Xander was indeed her 'Lover' and if she never took action as Brunhilde had forced herself not too, would her own depths of despair reflect or dwarf that of the Greatest-Slayer in History?

With a near empty voice she posed the question Giles earlier statement had been left opened too. "So … err … is she the only Slayer who never dared to Love her Lover?"

Giles winced at the very common-comment made towards someone he revered so highly and lightly fidgeted some more in his seat. Something that Buffy did not take any particular pleasure in witnessing given the 'to-close-to-home' nature of her questions. Especially if her theory about Xander was correct. If Xander was indeed her Lover and Giles knew of this then what she and Xander had been doing all those years through their friendship was exactly like Brunhilde and her White Knight. Only without the admission of Love … on her part that was. Xander had confessed his affections for her pretty much from the very beginning.

"No, Buffy. There have undoubtedly been hundred's, possibly thousands of Slayer's who have had the good fortune to come in contact with their Lover's. But to rehash my earlier claim, the Slayer must be able to find it in themselves to fall in love with their Lover in order for the Blessing/Curse to be lifted. And far too often, because of the influences of their Watcher's, these liaison's were to brief for any positive emotions to flare between both parties and any consummation to take place.

"True, there are accounts, as with Caroline, when such a rapid coordination of the emotional and physical has happened within days, possibly even hours of a one-on-one meeting with their Destined. But for others who are not as … 'impulsive to act', it could take weeks or even months before such passion could be addressed. And many misfortunes can happen in that timeframe.

"A Slayer could quite easily be killed prior to them participating in such pleasures. They may have just been passing through a territory and were unable to stay, thereby not earning the opportunity to truly know the other or make the connection of love. There were even several documented cases when a suspected-Lover had already been wed to another when he finally met his Chosen One. Really, Buffy, there could be a million reasonable explanations. But at the end of the day it is always the Slayer who above all things must be open to accepting, initiating and reciprocating that love. Genuine love, Buffy. A love which is not filtered by notions of exaggerated romance.

"Brunhilde was 'in-love' with her knight. True-Love. It was not a dramatic-love as seen on the Movie Screen. It was a gentle-love. A soft-love. It was the type of love that poet's preached about in their verses. It was an honest, pure and caressing love. It was a love that made her feel truly safe and adored. And as the weeks and months flowed between them, Brunhilde grew to being as devoted to him as he was to her. But not once in all their years together did they ever dare consummate this affair of the Heart. And I considered that the key to her wondrous accomplishments."

"So … Hang on! Are you saying that the Slayer needs to be in emotional-heaven in order to release some 'greatness' in them? But if you add the physical component to the equation, what happens next is 'Slayer-Be-Gone'?"

"Lust and Love are completely different, Buffy. You can enact on one without it affecting the outcome of the other…"

Buffy could hear Lara Croft's own words repeat in time with Giles when Dawn had asked a simular question to the Tomb Raider just nights ago.

"… But where passion and affection for the recipient are joined, shared, and in perfect union? That is when the Slayer-Spirit within finds its release. The physical act, that … Love, between both the Chosen One and her Lover, neutralises and then destroys the bond which pre-existed between the Spirit and its Host."

Buffy's expression then took on a glassy influence as she considered deeper the words offered to her by her former Mentor.

"You see, Buffy, it's not just the sex between yourself and the Lover that is the final surrender. The Host, in this case you, must submit completely to your passions for the other. It cannot be fabricated or 'faked'. It must be real and true. It cannot be an imitated emotion. During the intercourse, the … submission, you are invoking and choosing your Lover over that of the Spirit to be your guide for all time. That is why I had said earlier, that being with a Lover is not a 'fling', it is a life-long commitment. And it is one you happily choose."

"So it's kinda like me saying to Slayer-Casper, '_The Party is over now Ghosty, it's time for you to grab your coat and purse and leave'_?"

Giles raised his eyebrows and after a second of consideration and contemplation he nodded his head slightly in agreement. "Simply put. But, yes. That's about right. The Slayer Essence, you see Buffy may reside within your mind and share your soul, but it is only there at your invitation. It has no claim over your Heart. It can, as you say, be shown the door once your heart has made its decision."

The blonde regretfully shook her head in disagreement to that assertion, as much as she would have loved to believe these encouraging words, she knew from experience how empty they were. "I got news for you Giles; it isn't as simple as you say it is. I have lost count over the number of times I've ended up crying myself asleep wishing with all my entire being that the Slayer-ness would just leave me alone. To get out of my life so that I could be a normal girl again."

The Englishman leaned forward in his chair, resting his hands upon the desk before him instead of where they had previously laid, in his lap. "I never said it was simple, Buffy. Trusting yourself wholly to another person is never an easy thing. We always subconsciously hold back something in the exchange as a means of self protection if the romance sours. To allow yourself to love and to be loved is more then an exchange of pleasantries and flowery thoughts. Your heart must devour his as his devours yours … emotionally speaking of course. Your earlier pleas and tears of freedom would have no effect, Buffy. And you are but one piece to a puzzle that requires two. You entered into a symbiotic relationship with the Spirit and as long as you draw on what it has as a resource you will never be free of its influence."

Buffy's brow crinkled, she did not like what she was hearing or what Giles was implying. "What does that mean? You're making it sound as though I agreed to all of this."

"In actuality, Buffy, you most likely did. Prior to your transformation into being a Slayer, a manifestation of you entered into a pact with it. And regardless of your motivations *"

Buffy's temper suddenly flared at the insinuation. "*HEY! I entered into nothing! I woke up one morning and I was … well, I was *this*. I didn't agree to anything!" Buffy then stood up and leaned threateningly over her side of the imposing desk. "Do you honestly think I would have wanted this for my life? I've died twice, Giles. I have no job except for the ones I've been given over the years by way of either charity or nepotism. Christ, I couldn't even finish College because of what I am. I have no friendships outside of this … this nightmare. And as for romantic relationships? If any of them had been healthy and happy for me I wouldn't be here right now, would I? Do you honestly believe I'd have agreed to any of this?"

The middle-aged man sitting across the desk sighed in defeat, ignoring the miniature tantrum. He really wished she would just accept what he was saying and not fight her on every detail. Sombrely he replied to her claims with a steady and fatherly tone. "At the start of this meeting, Buffy, I told you that you would hear things about yourself that you could not _UN-_hear. That ignorance was indeed Bliss. Now just because you find what I am presently saying impossible to believe, it still does not mean that it is untrue."

"But what your suggesting is*"

Giles cut her off. "How is what I am suggesting now any less unbelievable then what you have faced in your tenure as a Slayer? Come now Buffy, let's be serious. You have averted just shy a dozen different types of apocalypses. You have walked into and out of Hell more or less unscathed from the experience. You have fought the First Evil, not once, but twice and lived to speak of it. You have even faced down a Hell-God with a Kardashian-Complex as well as a pure blood demon. And there are literally a hundred other outlandish situations you have faced above those that would be beyond the imaginings of the most demented of Horror writers. And the one thing you find difficult to believe and conceptualise is this? Quick question, Buffy: Do you remember *all* your dreams?"

"Of coarse not." She snapped back defensively. "The Slayer-Dreams I can't _help_ but remember. And believe you me, a majority of the time I wish I could forget them. But the normal dreams? The normal nightmares? No. No, I don't." She really did not like what Giles was implying, and what was worse, just like with the Plate and Croft's story a couple of night's earlier. Buffy felt in her soul that what Giles was saying had an air of truth to it. But just as her soul was saying one thing, her heart was screaming another. And the last thing her heart wanted was to accept was the truth of his words.

Giles nodded gently and with intentional slowness for her benefit, hoping that this action would assist in calming her down slightly. After a few seconds he leaned cautiously forward in his high-back leather chair as his former Slayer once more took her seat. "Buffy, whenever you have faced the 'First Slayer', it has always been whilst you were dreaming. Correct?"

The Slayer's eyes averted to everywhere in the room except upon Giles, after an internal war lasting several seconds she conceded this annoying fact to him. "Yeah. So?"

A small and forgiving smile crossed Giles concerned features. "That is the only way The Slayer-Spirit has been able to communicate with you. In your dreams. An ethereal reality, in which any agreement once struck, regardless of the reason, would be binding. You would not have to necessarily be consciously aware of your consent in order for this Contract to be valid. Whether you were awake or asleep, if a small part of your subconscious agreed to the deal then it would have been interpreted by the Universe as official. Just because you woke up the following morning with no recollection to this 'Agreement' it does not make it any less concrete."

The blonde once more shock her head in ferment self-denial at the uneasy logic being made. She could not accept this. Because in accepting this as truth meant that the only person responsible for her sad lot, her misery, had always been her and her alone. "No … no. Why, should I believe you? That's ridiculous. You're making all this up. You have to be! You said when I first met you that it was my destiny to be the Slayer."

"Yes, Buffy. A destiny of your own choosing."

Fighting back her inner response to become tearful, Buffy, studied her former mentor carefully using the small educations the Immortal had imparted with her over 'reading body language'. Giles was either the world's greatest liar, which she wasn't prepared to discount at this point, or he was not only telling her the truth, but that he firmly believed it to be true beyond any shadow of doubt.

Buffy's felt herself shrink slightly in her chair. "How can such a thing be real? It goes beyond everything I have ever believed about myself. I would never have agreed to such a thing. Ever!"

Rupert Giles offered her a soothing reply, understanding well how such acceptance would be difficult for her to process. "Now, yes. Such a proposition would be foreign to you now, but what about the Buffy Anne Summer's a decade ago? Would such a thing be beyond her?"

Buffy mind froze as she considered such a question. And sadly, she knew that she didn't have an answer. What she had instead was a whirlwind of reasons. Reason's that now seem so childish and petty, but back then? Back then these same reason's and justifications defined her sad little and spoilt life. Words then cascaded out of her mouth, and with each syllable that was uttered she found herself betraying her own hopes. As each discrimination seemed to illustrate her ill-considered intent from ten years earlier.

"So I went to sleep one night. Probably pissed off at my Parent's fighting, my cheating pseudo-boyfriend, my Hemley High Frien-imies, oh, and the fact I was failing Home-Economics'. Then the Slayer Spirit swoops into my head, most likely after just leaving its last Host on the ground somewhere dying and bleeding out the remaining second's of her life. It then offer's me a bit of physical power and mad-ass fighting skills. And I say '_sure, sounds goo_d'. We shake hands on the deal and that's it? My life is ruined? Do you honestly expect me to buy that bull-hockey, Giles?"

"No, I don't. It is, as you said, too ridiculous to even believe. And this is why you must accept what I am imparting upon you as the truth. If I was going to lie to you on something so significant wouldn't I have come up with something a tad bit more believable? The reality is, Buffy, you never had so much as a clue as to how you became a Slayer. And you never even so much as asked yourself that question."

Through gritted teeth, the blonde replied. Desperate and angered. Finding it impossible that Giles had even said what he had just said. "I asked myself and *you* that question plenty of times, Giles."

The Englishman however remained unfazed and composed towards this aggression. "No, Buffy. You asked me the 'Why', not the 'How'. The why, was of your own choosing. The How …*"

"What's the damn difference? Their both the same!"

"No, they are not. The two, Buffy, are World's apart. And just because you find it next to impossible to believe what I am saying, it does not mean that what I have said didn't actually happen."

Her anger now gave way to the tears she had been holding back only through willpower alone, her voice began to tremble as she made her emotional plea. "It's my head, Giles! My mind! I would have known if I had made some sort of deal!"

Giles composed expression broke, but he had to proceed. He knew that this would be painful for her to accept but he could not stall. There comes a time in every child's life when the truth of the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus must be told. "Really, Buffy? That's your argument? That you should have known? Might I point out to you, that for close to your first five-years you had the trace of the First Slayer roaming freely about in your psyche with you none the wiser to it even being in residence. If it wasn't for Willow's '_Enjoining Spell_' at the end of your first year of College you probably would never have even been consciously aware that it was even in there."

"That … that's not true."

"It is true, Buffy. For five years, since the moment you received your Power's, it has been residing within you. Patient and quiet. And as you went about your life and duty, it did not so much as raise a fuss. You were totally blind, deaf and oblivious to its presence, which is exactly what it wanted. But when Willow joined her, Xander and my consciousness with your own so that you could do battle with A.D.A.M. this action inadvertently drew it's attention to us, and therefore to you as well.

"We three became unwanted intruders into its territory. Your mind. And as such it chose to do what it had done all its life: Hunt. We three were intruders, so it saw us as a threat to itself and to you, it's Host. So whilst we slept, and by way of the rapidly dwindling connection that still existed between us four it hunted once more. Accessing our dreams."

Buffy's closed her eyes and wiped her cheeks dry; when she opened them again they supported defeat at the unnerving logic of Giles words, but she still could not admit it. At least not aloud. "My mind is not its territory, Giles. Its *my* mind! It belongs to me! And now your saying that I agreed to sublet it to this … this Being that can't even appreciate the importance of showering?"

Giles nodded. "It's one of the reasons why your psyche-landscape, whenever I have dreamed-walked into your consciousness, is so barren and sparse. These are not your memories, Buffy, it is hers. Your mind was accommodating the wants and needs of the First Slayer. You are offering it, what any good Host offers its guest. An environment that it would be familiar with and be able to find comfort and safety in. The fact that your dreamscape perfectly resembles the Plains of Africa, a place you have never ever been to, is testament to the influence it has as well as the subconscious concessions you have made towards keeping the Spirit within you content."

"But why me? I couldn't have been the only messed up 16 year old girl in the World!"

Giles expression softened. "Buffy, there was nothing wrong with you. What you were experiencing at the time of your Calling was undoubtedly profound and painful. But that alone did not make you a lone target. If you start looking upon the whole experience as a blessing and not a curse as you have been. You would see that the Spirit, despite the plans of the Council, has made you a more confident person. Can you fairly say that if the Spirit had not influenced your life, you would be the person that you are now?"

Buffy wished she could have rejected the question, but the truth was she couldn't. She was the sum of her experiences. "Of coarse I can't."

The Head Watcher nodded in acquiescence. "From the many conversations I had with you mother, Buffy, I am well aware of the child you once were prior to being called. And without insulting you in anyway, she feared greatly for the vapid person you were developing into. She saw you as superficial. A girl more focused upon the latest 'tends' and socialising then focusing upon her schoolwork or future. Does the name Harmony, mean anything to you? Because the way your mother kept describing you, prior to being called, that's exactly who you seemed to behave like."

Giles could read Buffy's startled expression and could see she was about to object vehemently to the description, so he hastily headed her off. "I know, I know. You always said you ran Hemley like Cordelia did Sunnydale. But sometimes a person's own recollections of themselves can be very deceptive. Your mother, who was responsible for paying off your Credit Card, once said to me that more often then not you were a 'follower' and not a 'leader' back at your old High School. That you used to whine to her endlessly about a jacket or a pair of shoes so-and-so had bought and that you just had to have those exact same items in order for you to be accepted and liked by your peers. That, in truth, doesn't sound to me like a Shepard, Buffy. That sounds more like a member of a flock. And it wasn't until you were ostracised by the Hemley community, post the Gymnasium Fire, that you started to develop a mind of your own and stopped thinking as a member of a Valley-Girl Collective."

Buffy chewed her inner cheek in contemplation. Recalling that when she came to Sunnydale how quickly she and Cordelia had hit it off and gravitated towards one another. And then she remembered how she then consciously sought out to hang with Willow instead, even though to do so meant social suicide. It was almost as though in selecting to befriend Willow, in the guise of using her as a 'free-tutor', she was showing her contempt towards the tried and true food-chain of High School. Something she never would have done when she was at Hemley. That was something she would never have done prior to being 'Called'.

She had always thought that she had steered herself to become friends with Willow and Xander because she had matured since the Gym Fire and the months she spent locked-up in that Psychiatric Unit. That she was no longer obsessed with 'superficial' friendships anymore. But maybe Giles and Lara were right, not only on the emotional level, but the social one. Maybe the Slayer Spirit was guiding her towards companions that could stand the test of time. After all, throughout all the freakiness, Willow and Xander had always been at her side when all others would have bailed at her very first Vampire staking. Maybe the Slayer Spirit did force her to mature beyond her previous guise as a superficial airhead.

"From everything I have heard of late, Giles, I'm starting to wonder if there is anything of the original 'me' left. Or is it all just Slayer, now? My mind? My personality? My Heart? Everything seems to have its sticky fingerprints all over it. Is there even a 'Buffy Summers' anymore? And if there is, is she someone I can even recognise?"

Giles scoffed at the question. "Of coarse there is a Buffy Summer's, you foolish girl. And she can be a delight to know and is a genuine treasure to everyone who loves her. Just because you have allowed yourself to be swayed internally from time-to-time doesn't mean the choices that you have made have not been your own."

"But the way you make it sound, Giles, is that I voluntarily gave up making these choices. For Christ Sakes, Giles, I let this thing enter my body and take up residence in my mind. How screwed up must I have been to have let that happen. Contract or no Contract?"

Giles studied the top of his desk as he considered his next words with care. "There probably is a splinter of truth to what Lady Croft's ancestor wrote, Buffy, about pre-Slayer's being emotionally vulnerable. And even though statistically speaking all of the young ladies who became Slayer's came from environments where they may have felt genuinely unloved or unwanted. That doesn't mean or make you a 'screw-up'. It just means that you were probably far more sensitive to events and that of your own feelings during a very precarious time.

"And who knows, maybe that is one of the common threads that join you and all the other Slayer's together? Maybe it is because you all share some hyper-emotional intuition. Maybe it is this that separated you from all the other 16 year old Girl's in California who were, as you pointed out, just as 'messed-up' as you. Maybe your sensitivity and empathy made you like a blinding beacon to the Spirit."

Buffy offered a snide chuckle at the honey-drenched words. "Do you honestly expect me to believe that Faith also falls into the category of being an uber-sensitive type?"

Giles, left eyebrow arched slightly in a quizzical fashion. "I wouldn't be so judgemental of her, Buffy. And yes, if you must know, I *do* believe that. For years I suspected her street-wise exterior was just a front. Fore if she was as 'hardened' as she had always tried to make herself seem, I greatly doubt she would have so quickly descended into such a dark place of despair when she had accidentally killed the Deputy Mayor eight-years ago. Emphasis, Buffy, on the word *accidentally*."

This comment was impossible for her to reconcile with the Faith that she knew. But then again … She had known Kendra and had gotten to know two-dozen other Potential's during the Battle of Sunnydale. Not a single one of them wasn't 'nice'. No, there had to be more to Faith being so different to everyone else then some psycho-babble. "Yeah, but what your saying is that this was all an act *"

"*We know that Faith's childhood was hardly ideal, Buffy. Her father left when she was still very young and from that age she was then raised solely by her mother. Who, as you recall from the rare bouts when she confided with us, had herself a serious drinking problem. A vice that on occasions allowed poor judgement as a parent as she would regularly invite 'strangers' back to their home. I will not try and imagine what kind of home life that would have been like to a developing young girl. Let alone the dangerous predatory potential that existed as a result. So is it any wonder that when she too was 'Called' that she saw this as an empowering experience and choose to revel in her destiny?"

In a split second, Buffy saw an opportunity to throw Giles a curve ball and she took full advantage of it. "If she had such a soft gooey centre, Giles, then why did she try and kill one of the best men you and I have ever known? Why would she try and strangle, Xander, when by her own admission he was trying to help her and be her friend?" She knew well the explanation, Dawn, had given her earlier about Faith being Xander's 'True Love', or visa versa. But she felt now was a time to shake things up and she wished to see if these questions could crack Giles composed English veneer.

And it did. Only it did so in a fashion that she herself had not truly anticipated. The concern that had been holding strong in Giles eyes for the past five minutes was quickly replaced with panic. Not blind 'oh-my-god-we're-all-going-to-die' panic. But there was definitely panic there.

"Err… why don't we stay on point, Buffy. There will be time enough to talk about that later after we have established the foundations of your original question."

The blonde's head perked up, 'Foundation' (?). How much more was there to know?

_**6FD**_

So sorry for the long wait. I had a motorbike accident four-months ago and it took an arm of mine out of commish ... :-(. Anyway, I am sure alot of you are now left with more questions then answers about the whole Slayer-Line and just how much Gile's has been keeping from his favorite Slayer. Trust me, more and more will be revealed shortly. But the next chapter will be an 'intermission' of sort's. Many of you have been writing to me and saying where the Hell is our favorite one-eyed adventurer? Well, your patience has been rewarded. Let's just say that Xander has been hanging out with a certain 'fruit-loop' in a Purple Unitard who is also lacking in a sense of humor. And if you can't guess who this is then I will leave you with this clue: Bangalla and '...Old Jungle Saying.'

As always, do not be afraid to leave reviews. No, really. Leave them. Lot's and Lot's of them. But no Flames please, I'm a sensitive soul.

:-)


	9. Chapter 9

_The blonde's head perked up, 'Foundation' (?!). How much more was there to know? ..._

At completion of these cautious words, Giles, leaned forward and looked deep into the Slayers blue eyes. "Your life and Faith's were very much different, Buffy. But you both still carried the baggage of betrayal, lost trust and inner pain. Now I do not know much about your life prior to you being Called. But I know this beyond any shadow of doubt; your mother loved you very much. And whatever alienation you felt from her at the time was not so. She loved you and Dawn with all her heart, and in her eyes there was little to nothing either of you could have done that she would ever be ashamed of. When you became a Slayer, she was dealing with a lot of personal stress. She had just discovered her husband, your father, had been having a four year affair with his legal secretary. And as a result she herself was quite possibly feeling unloved and unappreciated. It is likely, given how close your relationship to her was, that you picked up on these queues and replicated these same emotions upon yourself. But do not think for a single moment, Buffy, that even at her lowest point she wouldn't have taken a thousand bullet's for you or your sister."

Buffy sombrely shook her head against her Mentor's reassurances, grateful that he had just addressed the 'elephant in the room'. Even though a tiny part of her was resenting the fact that Giles was commenting upon her mother's supposed history and state-of-mind. She was, after all, *her* mother. But ever since Lady Croft had told her about how the Spirit chose its Host's, she had been thinking a lot about her own mental and emotional state back then. And as easy as it would have been to accept Giles kind gesture and not hold either her mother, or for that matter herself accountable, she knew this would be nothing but self-delusion.

"Thanks for saying all that, Giles. But what I was feeling back then wasn't either fake or imagined. Yeah, my mom and dad were fighting a lot. And yeah, Mom discovering that Dad had been having an Affair with 'Cindy' was more then a pretty big deal for both her and me at the time. Their Marriage Councillor had told them about the importance of getting these things out in the open, and boy did they do just that. I remember coming home early one day to hear my dad shout at her, not knowing I was already home from my Cheer Practice yet, that ever since mom had me she hadn't wanted to fool around with him as much any more. He had yelled out that I had made her … frigid. Can you believe that crap? My creepo-dad was trying to justify his Affair by blaming it all on her and me. That we … that *I* had forced him into it!

"The fact that Cindy was 24, a red-head, a yoga fanatic with a sugar-daddy-complex was just an unbelievable coincidence. But by his slanted justification, he said he would never have even looked at Cindy twice if mom had been _givin_'-_him-some_ in the bedroom. Sure, I can now look back on that shouting-match and cut holes in his argument every which way. But back then? I was 16 going on 4, Giles. What the hell did I know? I was just a self-absorbed kid. In my mind all that he was saying all made a bit of sense to me. But then again, dad being a Lawyer and all, he was used to making argument's and presenting the most outlandish theories and having it all sound plausible. My mom and dad were heading to Divorce Court and it was my fault. All because I happened to have been born. Any self-pity, Giles, wasn't delusional. It was very much real."

Giles remained silent for a moment, allowing these words and the emotional weight they carried to settle. The ticking of the Grandfather Clock in the corner of the room seemingly increasing in volume with every drawn out second. Eventually the Englishman drew himself back to the original topic of their side-line as he didn't feel comfortable pursuing Buffy traumatic childhood any further. "Yes, well, at any rate, Buffy, the Spirit would have probably exposed you to a lot of personal memories that would have made you a little bit more pliable and in a better frame of mind to say 'yes' to it's proposal of co-habitation."

Softly and with a sad-chuckle she offered her former-Watcher a reply. "Are you saying that on top of everything I was *tricked* into an agreement? Conned by something that wouldn't have had the IQ to figure out how to use a hair dryer?"

Giles shock his head. "I wouldn't exactly say 'tricked or conned', Buffy. The images and pro-arguments would have all been yours. It was *your* mind after all. Not hers. The First Slayer would have had no authority within its realm. As you well know from your past dealing with her whenever you have had to retreat into your own consciousness, she is only a presence. Not an influence."

As much as she hated to admit it, especially now, Buffy had to agree to this point. "So basically, what you're saying is I ended up talking myself into ruining my own life?"

Giles drew his tea cup to his lips and took a small sip before he answered her question. "I wouldn't have used the word 'ruined' either. But yes. Your 16-year-old-mind would have argued the pros and the cons towards accepting such an arrangement. And obviously, you did. But who could really blame you? At the time you were feeling … powerless, and here you were being offered power. Not only power but also a purpose in this life. What youngster that age hasn't wished for such a thing at one time or another? Superior Strength. Speed. Agility. Fighting ability. Rapid Healing. A sixth sense to detect the unnatural. Plus being part of a grand destiny. One that singled you out from a mass of other girl's your age. I'm sure it would have been all very flattering. The pluses of this deal, Buffy, would have easily outweighed the few negatives that accompanied it. It just so happened that these negatives, though less in number, also carried with them a greater burden. But then again that's 16 for you. At that age you have a tendency of living solely in the 'now'. Not for tomorrow or the next day, or the day after the next day. The whole fighting until you get killed or dying some horrid death wouldn't even have factored into your decision process. Why? Because when you're that age, people always have a belief that they are invulnerable to harm. And that if anything bad was to happen, then it would happen to the other person, not to you."

"Well that kinda sucks."

A wry and sad smile graced the male's lips. "I never said it was fair, Buffy. Just that you would have agreed to it all."

The Slayer raked her fingers through her long golden hair. "But this … this Slayer thing is a Curse. Not a Contract."

Giles returned his teacup to its saucer. "I'm curious; do you call it a curse because Lady Croft says as much? Now do not misunderstand me, her background and various experiences make her quite the formidable resource, I mean she is not some rich-crack-pot-eccentric. But I have dedicated the earlier part of my life into trying to unravel the mysteries of the Slayer Line. Identifying and justifying the bond that exists between both Slayer and Host and Host and Lover. So understand, Buffy, I am not some inept simpleton on this subject. And I was also *your* Watcher for several years."

The Head Watcher leaned back in his chair and made an appraising look at his former charge, offering her the impression that he was a Headmaster of some distinguished School and he was now in the midst of explaining to her why he was about to expel her from said school. "A Curse, Buffy, is a punishment for a perceived wrong that is committed. Prior to you becoming the Slayer, what wrong did you ever do to make you think you 'deserved' what you have experienced over the last ten years? Shoplift a few gaudy bracelets when you were 11 or 12? Make amusing jokes at the expense of your School's Cafeteria Staff or maybe its Substitute Teacher's?"

The Slayer steeled herself, struggling to hold onto what small part of her anger that still existed. Over the past week she had discovered that not only her 'family' been keeping secrets from her about Xander, but she had discovered that the pseudo father-figure in that family had been keeping the biggest secret of all from her. One that centred on her not being able to live a normal-life. Her indignation was a righteous one and she refused to have it lessened due to any sense of embarrassment. "I wasn't the one Cursed, Giles. That was the First Slayer, not me. At least … at least that's what Croft believed. And you know what? I believe her."

Giles closed his eyes for a moment and pondered her reply. "Yes, I suppose in that regard you might believe her words given the cruelty of the spell's invocation. The First Slayer was undoubtedly mistreated by those who had cast the Original Enchantment. But again, I ask you, what wrong did she perpetrate on them for her to be 'Cursed'?"

Giles allowed his question to linger in silence in order for it to gain its full effect before continuing. "In their unenlightened minds she was probably seen as just a weapon, a tool to be used at their convenience. The First Slayer wasn't a person, Buffy, just some 'thing'. An object. A female with the freakish ability to be able to fight these assorted creatures on equal footing. To these … 'Holy Men', she was nothing more then a resource. Just as *you* were seen as a resource by the earlier Council. To them, the First Slayer … a wild-woman … she would be considered not even worthy of the negativity that casting a curse would entail.

"You and Lady Croft call it a curse because of the harsh and often disastrous impact it has had on many girl's lives. But as you have seen with other girl's … other Slayer's … Faith, Kendra, Sara, Michelle, Kennedy, and so on … they have all revelled in their calling. Looking at the Slayer Destiny as something they felt blessed to participate in. There are always two-sides to every story, and each side has a hundred different perspectives."

The Blonde-Slayer remained silent so the Watcher pushed his point. "Buffy you recall your last month in Sunnydale don't you? You remember when your consciousness got sent back to the moment this … Curse of yours was enacted?"

"Of coarse I do. The First Slayer was being held against her will and these creepy guys were doing a ritual around her."

"I remember you telling me of this in great detail. I also remember you stating that these 'creepy-guys' were presenting themselves to you with a very calm demeanour."

"Yeah. To them the First … she … she was less then nothing. She was *only* a female and therefore they thought that she, as well as her future vessels, would be able to be controlled by the male population."

Giles knew that in reminding Buffy of this brief encounter that he had just crossed a dangerous line with his ex-Slayer. But he saw an opportunity. One that in subjecting her to this unpopular mode of previous 'controllers' of the Slayer that it would better establish his own credibility later on as being a Watcher who had set himself apart from the usual Dogma of the Establishment. "That is right. But there was no malice on their part, was there? This was a simple a means to an end. One life for thousands, or presently, one life for several billion."

Buffy looked to the thick carpeted floor. Not out of embarrassment or anger, but because once more Giles was right. And he had used her own past words against her.

"It is like if I was to enchant this … this disposable pen lying before me." Giles then picked up the ink pen in question, one Buffy had been twirling around her fingers fifteen minutes earlier. "I don't care about it one way or another. It isn't an heirloom or a gift, it represents no prominent historical moment in my life. It is just a pen. If it runs out of ink I could throw it in the trash and select another from one of my draws or from the stationary cupboard in the outer office and not think twice about it. But what if … what if I was to place some enchantment on it? A spell that would ensure this irrelevant object never ran dry of ink ever again? Only then, Buffy, would this pen hold any true value. The Holy Men that condemned the First Slayer, in a sad and twisted reflection of this pen-scenario, sincerely thought that what they were doing was probably helping in giving, in a very skewed way of course, the First Slayer life a purpose and therefore a greater value. How their decision would impact upon your life, as well as the undoubtedly tens of thousand girls that proceeded you, would never have factored into their collective thought's at the time. They were giving the First Slayer the opportunity to follow her quest to its completion."

Buffy felt incensed. "You're comparing my crappy life and what they did to the First Slayer to a reusable pen?! A pen!"

"No, I'm not, Buffy. For goodness sake. I told you that it was an innocent comparison, not a legitimate one. The sacrifices you have made over the last 10-years would be beyond many, if not a majority of people living today. My pen reference is merely an effort on my part to illustrate how these Holy Men may have looked upon the First Slayer. An individual that they were trying, in their own misbegotten way, to help. To help her and in a distorted fashion also help and serve themselves."

The Slayer slumped back in her chair, mumbling out a reply slightly louder then she had intended. "That still doesn't make it sound any better, Giles." Buffy then straightened up in her chair and stared across the table at her former mentor. "Lara said there was a legend of a Warrior Woman in Africa. A female warrior's life that had amazing parallels to what we think we already know about the First Slayer."

The Englishman shrugged his shoulders with indifference. "The further back in time you go, Buffy, the more stories and tales you'll find which overlap one another. Legends and Myths from one culture bleed into, or become adopted, by another. With only slight variations made in order to help enforce each 'legitimate ownership' of these tales. What story was Lady Croft alluring too specifically?"

Buffy chewed her inner lip in contemplation, every part of her wanted to ask Giles about the validity of Croft's idea to a Slayer-Amazon Connection. But this was a compulsion, made more out of habit then need. "Lara told me and Dawn the other night about an African story where a group of Witch Doctor's tried to save this 'girl' after she was attacked really bad by some beastie. But when it became clear to them she was a goner despite all their best efforts to heal her they gathered together and discussed what they were going to do. They were afraid that if she died then all the monsters and demons that had always been a problem in their respective territories would grow in number and kill them all. So in the end they did some major-voodoo, making it so that her Spirit would leap frog from one girl to another. Doing battle with these things until the end of time."

Giles leaned forward with razor intent clear upon his face. "Lady Croft told you this? Last night?"

"Umm yeah." Buffy automatically answered, surprised at the sudden sharpness of her former-Watcher's response to her narrative. "It was just a story though. Something she had heard about in her travels abroad I think. Probably just nonsense anyway. She was trying to have a bonding moment with me and Dawn and told it to us as a bit of a lark. It was right after dinner, just before she then had told us that one of her ancestor's had been a Watcher themselves. I think she was trying to get us to trust her. Why do you ask?"

Giles eyes became suspicious at Buffy's long-winded disclosure … but … satisfied just the same for the explanation. Leaning back in his high-back leather chair and steepling his finger's together like some James Bond-Villain he answered, the volume and tone of his voice gentle and cautious. "Several months ago, Xander, contacted me. I remember it quite clearly because it was 3 in the morning. Usually when we corresponded with one another we did so at an allotted time, a time that allowed me to set a half-hour free in my diary for us to catch-up and engage in personal back-and-forth. You know: How he was, what he's been up to. Silly _'father/son'_ things really. Anyway, he was very excited over a story he had been told by a Tribal Elder earlier that evening.

"But Xander didn't wish to place anything down in his Monthly Report to me because he had been disappointed many times before and he did not wish to go on 'Record' unless he had something more definitive and concrete. To that end he said that he wanted to confirm some of the specific details with another source. But he was quite cagey over who that source was. I offered him some of our own Researcher's here, but after how royally two of them screwed up the Tra'ka'pein Translation last June, he was understandably hesitant in putting his hopes in their hands again … at least until, as he said, '_The Hellmouth rose up and then froze over_.'

"Anyway, during that 20-minute discussion he imparted to me a long forgotten and rarely heard African Myth. Reciting it word-for-word as it was imparted to him. In a nutshell, Buffy, his story was also about a lone warrior girl from a race of women. A girl who was condemned to fight unnatural beasts and creatures. Existing from one form and passing into another until the ending of the World. At the end of our conversation he announced that he almost 99-percent certain they were talking about the First Slayer. And I had to admit, I was also very excited because I too also saw the similarities between what we knew from your experience and what was told to him. But as I said, he wanted to confirm aspects of this story with another source." Giles sighed and sounded almost defeated as he continued on. "Sometimes, Buffy, that 1 percent can make all the difference between something being accurate and something being false. The Tra'ka'pein Incident last year is a perfect example of what I mean. All it took was one poorly deciphered noun and Xander nearly had his tongue ripped out for the affront it caused the Demon-Chief's eldest daughter.

"Anyway, Xander chose to delegate this task to someone he said had more experience in background research then him. Someone who would not allow their emotions and excitement to cloud either fact or reason to proving the story true. Unfortunately, Xander, never did get back to me as he had promised. As such I assumed his investigations, as well as the independent investigations of his colleague had met an inconclusive dead end. But it just goes to show you, Buffy that not all the intelligence Lady Croft has supplied you with can be counted on as reliable. Now I am not saying that she has intentionally misled you, her errors could very much be genuine. Just as Xander's obviously were. I am just asking you to place a little bit more faith in me and him then with her."

Buffy remained silent. Deliberating in her mind over what Giles had just said. If it was true that Xander himself hadn't found any juice to support this myth then she could probably take from this that Croft's Amazon-Angle was nothing but a healthy dose of steaming crap-olla. But still, if you're going to be served a steaming dose of crap-olla to people, you'll need a plate. And the Tomb Raider had that. A plate that was close to two-and-a half-thousand years old. A Plate, Xander or the Watcher's Council, didn't have or were even aware existed.

_Poor Xander. Three years of searching, of risking his life pursing even the smallest piece of evidence of the First Slayer's existence. And all the proof he needed was never even in Africa. But in some aristocrat's private vault right back here in England._ Buffy, felt a wave of melancholy consume her over her Xander-Shaped-Friend's plight. If it wasn't for bad-luck, she doubted if Xander would have any luck at all. And if she, Lara, and Dawn found out the truth of the Slayer Origin's after less then a month on the case, how would he feel about that?

He had left for South Africa three-years ago with the intent of making this discovery all on his own, with no help from anyone. If she and Dawn humiliated him like that she'd doubt he'd ever recover. And despite all these confusing emotions that had now been stirred up within her for the guy, the absolute last things she'd ever want to do was steal this glory right from under him. He'd been doing such incredible and amazing things in Africa, and every bit of it was centralised on his Myth Busting Search of the First Slayer Origin's.

Inwardly, Buffy, deflated. She had wronged him in so many ways, without even knowing that she had been. She could not be a willing party to this blotch on his Council Record and she knew that her little sister would feel the same way. Yesterday morning, when Dawn had asked Croft if she would consider including Xander in this expedition, she felt relieved when the Tomb Raider coyly answered that she had arranged for all the man-power they would need and that their Guide was someone they would be able to trust and rely upon. At the time, Buffy was silently grateful that the Raider had rebuffed her sister's suggestion. Grateful because of the purely selfish reason of her not knowing whether or not she could have coped with having to spend an extended period of time with the guy's whose friendship she had all but abandoned three-years earlier. The same guy she was finding herself thinking more and more about in a more then friendly-type-way.

But after one night of wallowing in her confusing-misery, consuming two tubs of Strawberry-Ripple Ice Cream, as well as watching 'Troy' twice on her Hotel _Pay-per-View_ Channel. She was now feeling quite ... emboldened. Dawn was right, Xander, more then anyone deserved to be part of this discovery, despite how awkward it would make her at seeing him again. With this in mind, the Slayer decided that when next she saw Lara, which would be tomorrow, she would demand from the English Beauty that she take her sister's request seriously and find some role in her expedition for a certain one-eyed carpenter. Either that or she wouldn't go. And if she didn't go then Lara wouldn't be able to use her 'Slayer Memories' to find and backtrack any familiar landmarks that might allow them trace all the way to the remnants of Amazon Village. Croft needed her, plain and simple. And though Dawn would be horrified that she was holding her future with the Tomb Raider to ransom, she also knew that for Xander her little sister would happily abandon that future in a heartbeat. She just prayed that Xander would be able to join them and that he wouldn't feel overshadowed or intimidated by the gorgeous adventurer like she was.

Buffy continued to ponder her strategy of blackmail and judging it's overall success as Giles continued to droll on about Watcher resources being unparallel. Croft was far from being a pushover, she knew that much for sure from the brief time she had spent in her company. And the last thing in the world she would want to do would be to sour any chance Dawn had in getting in tight with her 'Mentor'. Hell, deep down, Buffy had to admit that there was even something … admirable … about her. Obviously, the Tomb Raider didn't much care what people thought about her but that she would prefer it if what they thought of her came with a friendly-slant. As far as Buffy was concerned, Lara had earned her friendship and admiration the moment she revealed to her the whole 'True Love' thing. Big deal if she may have gotten one little folktale wrong. Dawn still trusted her, and everything else she had shared with both of them seemed to have panned out so far. Besides, all she had to go on that Lara was even in the wrong with everything was Giles word of honour. And yes, clearly it also went a long way that Xander himself had also heard of a simular legend. Because this meant that Croft wasn't half-arsing anything and that she had been seriously looking under nearly every rock available to her.

As Buffy finished this thought, a new one arose. One that gave her a very prickly sensation on the back of her neck, something that from her past experience, was never '_of the good'_. That 'new thought' was towards both Croft and Xander. Africa was a mondo-big place, but for the past three-years, if the 'Xander-Files' she had read just a few days ago could be taken seriously, Xan had been chasing down any and every story that could possibly be linked to the First Slayer. Meaning that he had made himself a pretty big fish in a small pond where tales of lone-slayer-girls were concerned. If Lara and Xander were both looking under the same kind of rocks, then the real question would be how it is the two of them hadn't crossed one another's path? If Lara was asking some of the same kind of people the same questions that Xander was, how was it that she hadn't even heard of his name in passing? Surely people would have referred her to him the moment she had started her enquiries …

Mentally, Buffy shook her head. More and more questions. But certainly questions that can be pondered at another time. Her ex-Mentor had just finished praising the new Council Library and she couldn't bear any further self-congratulating, so she decided to bring him down to Earth … hard.

"Giles, Croft has been more direct and honest with me in the one evening I knew her then you have been my entire life. So I can forgive her if she got one or two small things wrong. Because at least with her I can count that these mistakes may have been genuine and not 'calculated', unlike some others I can name right about now."

"Buffy ….*"

Buffy didn't want to hear Giles soft spoken excuses, but even more then that she wanted to put the Croft-issue to bed quickly. "*Earlier, you referred to my agreement with the Slayer Spirit as a Binding Contract. But I don't recall signing anything."

Giles allowed himself to be caught off-guard by the query. "Seriously? After a decade of education in Supernatural Lore, that's what you cling too? Of course there wasn't any signature needed. It was an agreement of intention and acceptance, Buffy. A pact between all the parties involved. You, the Spirit and of course your Lover."

At the last word, Buffy's, eyes bulged out of her sockets. "Hold the phone, are you saying that at the time I was agreeing to all this imposed misery. My 'Lover' … who ever that is, would have been agreeing to all of it as well?"

Giles offered his former Slayer a non-committal shrug. "If an agreement was made with you, then that same agreement would extend to them as an '_Interested Second-Party_'."

If Buffy didn't feel guilty about how she had treated Xander in the past before, she certainly did so now. With all those years of rubbing it in his face that *she* was the one chosen by fate. Only to now discover that when she had given the thumbs up to the Spirit, she had also inadvertently roped Xander into her cursed life as well. "That is_ so_ wrong."

"How so?"

"Because … well … because it is, Giles!"

"Please understand, Buffy, that the supernatural world is not how it is generally portrayed in fiction or the movies. It is not one that operates in chaos. *Ours* is the one that operates in chaos. Theirs is actually quite orderly. Theirs is one of checks and balances. There is a good reason why the Three Demon Lords of the Neither Realm use the Law Firm of '_Wolfram & Hart_' as their front here on Earth. Law and Rules are their bread and butter. The Supernatural World, Buffy, is governed by a strange stability that we, as humans, can only aspire to possessing one day ourselves. Any Agreement made with you, would have also have had to include your Lover as well, if only on a smaller and milder way then yourself."

"B...but how?"

"It truly would not have been so difficult. The conditions of this … 'Curse', as you refer to it, are quite specific. Your 'freedom' hinges very much on their participation. It … it truly is an odd and unique change of fundamental's. Quite amusing really. Typically it's the female who yearns for her Prince Charming and it's the male's lone desire to become a great warrior or hero. But in this instance these roles are reversed. With the girl wishing to become an impressive fighter and defender and the boy wishing to find and know true love."

"But I don't …?"

"As I stated to you earlier, Buffy, every culture, every legend, says that there is always one perfect partner for another. An ideal match in every sense of the word. Those bonds truly do exist. We cannot see them of course, they are … ethereal. But they are, none the less, there. From birth to grave, they all exist within us. And it is these bonds that govern our attraction and preference to others. Why some of us prefer redheads over blondes. Shapely figures to athletic ones. Maturity over … playfulness. The various combinations that exist are astounding, Buffy. Most people end up having to 'settle'. So what if out of a hundred a boyfriend or girlfriend only matches, at most, 80-target-points to what they're looking for? Generally people side with the majority, staking-their-claim and then marrying before it's too late, or in case someone else steals them away. Despite what people say very few are actually willing to sit around and wait for they're soul mate to show up out of the blue. Many don't want to end up alone. So 'compatibility' becomes their watch-word."

Buffy blew a fallen strand from off her forehead. "Real romantic, Giles."

"Not romantic, Buffy, realistic. How many relationships have you been in where you or they have had to compromise?"

"Everyone compromises, Giles. Everyone."

"Not with your 'Ideal', Buffy. They like the same food you do, enjoy the same music, the same movies, the same television shows. They even share the same world views."

Buffy's mind again inadvertently searched through her memories of Xander, and again she was frustrated by how many interests they shared, even right down to the same food that they liked. But she was not prepared to reveal that she had been thinking of anyone inparticular to the Watcher. "Sounds kinda boring if you ask me. Where's the variety? Isn't that the … y'know … the spice of life? If he likes the same stuff as me, then what would there be to talk about?"

"I suppose that would depend upon yourselves, but I am confident that your … simularities, would not be the obstical you believe it to be. Lover's, Buffy, are a consistent-comfort. You don't need to change them, or for that matter have to be 'changed' in order to please them. They are someone you will never find yourself at odd's with. They are someone who is a 'perfect fit' to everything you are and possibly want, Buffy. You see, the Contract you make with the First Slayer doesn't force some poor boy into becoming somebody they are not. The Contract permit's circumstances … fate … to bend in both of your favours so that the two of you will eventually meet. But what happens after you have both met … well … anything can happen from that point on."

"So the Spirit has no way of knowing who my Lover is?"

"No. It is as blind to this as you are. But do not forget, Buffy, you and the First Slayer share the same … consciousness. Just because it chooses to be a 'silent houseguest' doesn't mean it is not aware of your fundamental and emotional reactions to certain people. And let's face it; it is not in its best interest to allow such a relationship to develop. It is quite possible, as you had earlier surmised, that it engages in some level of romantic-sabotage to cause the Host's interest to stray elsewhere. Afterall, deflection of feelings would be far more preferable to it then the alternative. And it achieves this by first gauging the emotional reaction of their Host and then possibly waylaying that 'interest' to some other unsuspecting party."

Buffy closed her eyes and balled her hands into tiny, mighty fists. So that was how the Spirit was able to 'miss direct' her away from following her own heart? Only instead of there being some … randomness to the whole thing it now appeared as though her own emotions had been an unwilling accomplice to her very heart's betrayal. "But what about me, Giles?" Buffy then gently opened her eyes. "From the sounds of it, the First knows my heart better then I do. How will I ever be able to trust what I feel ever again after hearing that?"

"Trust me, Buffy. The fact that you have been so easily manipulated in the past, that is a *good* thing."

"Good? Good? How is that good? I have the right to be happy, don't I?"

"Of course you do. But you don't want this type of love, Buffy. If I knew … knew without a shadow of doubt that you would not one day live to regret learning the truth …*"

"* TRUTH?! C'mon, Giles. We've been dancing around this since I first asked you the question about 'Lovers'. All I have wanted from the first moment I ever met you was the 'truth'. But instead I discover that throughout all these years all you have done is deceive me … lie to me. And I've … I've had enough. I need to know. If you know who my Lover is then I want you to tell me now!"

The English Watcher expression became a solemn one as he stared back at his former-charge. He then looked to his intercom, sadly nodding his head in agreement. "You're right, Buffy. If I owe you anything, I owe you that much. But before we proceed further there is still something else that you have to be made aware of." The Senior Watcher then raised his hands up to hastily still any complaint that was about to exit the blondes mouth. "I do not plan to dodge this issue, Buffy. If you wish to know the complete truth then I will give it to you. The ugly truth of it all. But there are still elements you need to be made aware of. So if you don't mind I would like to include, temporarily of course, one other person. Do I have your permission?"

All Buffy could do was offer a cautionary nod of her head. She had come this far, she might as well see it out.

"Thank you, Buffy." Rupert Giles then placed his finger on one of the intercom buttons and spoke aloud to his Personal Assistant in the outer office. "Mary, might you please contact Mr Archer and instruct him to come to my Office immediately."

_Senior or Junior?_

"Archer Senior, please Mary."

_Yes, Sir. And Mr. Giles, Mr. Cavender wished me to inform you that Ms. Faith Lehane apparently arrived in England nine-hours ago, First Class on British Airways. But after making her way through Customs and Arrivals she disappeared_.

"So she's at least safe?"

_As of nine-hours ago, yes Sir. But she has once more disappeared from the grid. And with Airport Security the way it is now our Tech People are having a Devil of a time accessing their systems. Not to say they can't, just that it might take a little bit more time. What we know thus far is based on her Passport clearance in both the US and here. That she departed and arrived, nothing more. But we do not know how she paid for the passage as it wasn't paid with her Council Credit Card. It seems a secondary party has covered the costs. We are trying to identify who, but First Class Clientele typically has additional security and confidentiality associated to their ticket purchases, so that makes such things additionally difficult. Even more so if they possess an Account with an Airline and do not 'pay' as they fly like many of us do but rather settle their Account at the end of each month. And if this is so, well, this being the 4__th__ it may take three-and-a-half weeks before a financial paper-trail makes itself apparent._

"I see. Do what you can, Mary. And thank you for that update." Giles removed his finger from the button.

Silence then flowed between both Watcher and Slayer until Buffy couldn't take anymore. "What happened? Is Faith okay?"

With tired eyes, Giles just shrugged his shoulders. "I wish I knew. She checked in after her Patrol two-nights ago. But an hour after she had retired to her Apartment to get some sleep, she apparently received an international call, she then hastily departed."

"How do you know this?"

"Faith is presently under Watcher Surveillance. We have been logging her activities for the past three-weeks. Ever since her Watcher … Justin, bought a matter to our attention."

"She … she hasn't gone to the Dark Side again has she?" Worry, laced in the blonde's voice.

"Goodness no. In fact she has been exemplary. Coincidently she is under sevellience for the exact same reason as why you are here."

Buffy's brow crunched in confusion. But before she could ask her question there was a gentle tap on Rupert Giles main door.

Without sparing a moment to even enquire into the identity of the person, the Head Watcher bellowed out, not using his intercom. "Come in, Reginald."

Buffy craned her head in the direction of the door as it slowly opened. What shuffled through was an eighty-five year old man with an elaborate silver handled cane. Immediately, Buffy, felt a need to get up from her seat and assist the Watcher-Veteran. But as she rose the man named 'Reginald' just waved any charitable effort away with a smile.

"I'm not dead yet, my dear child. I've still got several good years left in me before I need anyone's assistance to walk across a simple room."

Buffy blushed and offered the old man a tiny smile. She suspected that she should probably be just as angry at this stranger as she was with Giles; after all, he was a Watcher as well. But she just felt so emotionally tired and spent. The finish line was in sight, all she had to do was tolerate this charade for a couple more minutes and Giles would have to tell her her 'Lovers' name. He had all but promised her this.

Taking his seat next to the Slayer, but never allowing his eyes to stray from the Head of his Organisation. Mr Archer, Snr. Addressed Rupert Giles. "Well, my boy, what can I do for you?"

Giles made a sweeping gesture with his right hand towards the aged man. "Buffy, may I introduce you to the man who taught me everything I knew about becoming your Watcher."

Reginald offered the Slayer a small bow. "Truly, my dear, it's nothing I'm particularly proud of. Rupert was one of my worst ever student's." He said with a small glint of mirth in his eye. "Believe me, if he had been one of my better ones, he would have been in that Chair twenty-years sooner."

Buffy surrendered another small smile. No doubt about it, this old coot was a charmer.

Giles pulled at his tweed lapel's in an irksome fashion. "Regardless of what you think, 'old-man'. I'm sitting in it now. So please show me and the Office a bit more respect."

"OH, respect? I'm not the one who nearly fainted at his first Gwarnar dissection, am I? It was embarrassing, my dear. He fled like a nipper about to be clipped, bawling and wailing like a newborn, all as he ran from the classroom in abject fear. If it had been me, Rupert, I never would have had the nerve to show my face again, regardless of who my father was."

"I was eight and you threw its liver at me."

"I *tossed* it's Liver to you and *you* dropped it. Unbelievable. Underarm and all. That's why I never allowed you to try out for the School Cricket Team; you obviously couldn't field to save your life."

"There is more to being a Watcher then playing Cricket, Old-Man."

"Not if you're British, there's not!"

Buffy raised her hand tentatively, not sure whether this was an argument that should be taken seriously. "Err, Giles, what is he doing here exactly?"

"Yes, Rupert. What *am* I doing here?"

Giles leaned across the desk, sparing a brief second to look at his former Slayer before he removed his glasses and closed his eyes gently. "You are here, Old-Man. To tell Ms. Summer's all she needs to know about the '_Lover's of Athena'_."

At the completion of this sentence, Giles, instantly darted his head to the right as an antique walking stick suddenly found itself flying across, and over, the desk. Narrowly missing the Chief Watcher's head by about half-a-foot. It's journey ending with the impact, and then shattering, of the 130-year-old Oriental Vase that had been situated on the polished oak pedestal directly behind him.

Opening his eyes to the sound of the vase fragmenting with its assault, and then turning his head to appraise the damage, both financial and historical, the Head Watcher released a frustrated grunt. "Well … that went a whole lot better then I thought it would."

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I know, I know. I promised you a 'Xander' chapter this time out. It is written, but when I went over it I was displeased. I wanted more … action, and I thought it kinda fell short in that regard. I have a friend of mine, who is a major Phantom-fanatic, looking over it and making some suggestions.

Please don't hate me

Please offer me your thoughts, but refrain from Flames, I am the sensitive sort. Reviews are coin of the Realm, people.

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	10. Chapter 10

_**TWO WEEKS EARLIER**_

As the faded and slightly dented olive '81 Toyota Land Cruiser rambled over the crest, the driver elicited another involuntary sharp hiss of discomfort. A discomfort that had remained a consistent nuance for the last three-hours. Ever since lunch he seemed, almost as though he had been magnetically drawn to them, driven into just about every dip, ditch and pot-hole there seemed to be in all of Bangalla. One hour of such abuse could be considered by some recreational 4x4 driver's as fun, and two hours of such was perhaps manageable. But three? He wasn't that much of a sadist. A logical man probably would have stopped long ago and taken a rest. But logical men would not be chasing the clock like he presently was. And according to the sun sinking on the distance he now figured that he probably had no more then a half-hour, probably in a pinch 45-minutes, of daylight left before complete and total darkness consumed both him and Slayer.

As his diesel engine fought to keep all four wheels underneath him turning, he looked to the compass affixed to the sun-cracked dashboard. Taking a hasty estimate to his bearings. He had heard that there was a village nearby, some 30-miles to the East, in the Wambesi Territory. The largest of several smaller Wambesi Tribal Village's scattered in the region that often took in wayward travellers for the night. On the condition of course that you swore you wouldn't cause any trouble, that you follow the rules, stay in your designated area and not try to take advantage of the women-folk.

The Wambesi's had a good reputation in the territory. A reputation for being both fierce and honourable to their word. They were also very 'old school' when it came to living in the 21st Century. Most of their young men, according to the rumour-mill, still walked around in loin cloths, carrying spears and shields. With the Wambesi, 'Tribal Law' was placed higher on the totem then judicial. And as far as he was concerned this was cool, he always considered himself more an _eye-for-an-eye, tooth-for-a-tooth _kinda guy anyway. But still, it was hard to keep a straight face when everyone walked around like they were an extra in an old Johnny Weissmuller Movie.

These days a majority of South Africa embraced the modern life. A life of cell-phones, internet and soccer. But there were still a few small pocket's of resistance where the 'old-ways' were judged by many as the 'best-ways'. And in such places … like this Wambesi Village, a place where he had been told they *did* embrace the 'old ways', it was not considered polite to go out of your way to point out what so-called luxuries they were all missing out on. They liked their lifestyle, as simple as it might have been, and that for them was the end of the argument.

Usually the accommodation offered to 'visitors' in these Villages were very Spartan, certainly not the kind of place they would put mints on your pillows. But then again if it was 5-star service you were looking for then you wouldn't be out in the middle of no-where, would you? No, the true reason why you would seek out such places as this one for a night's refuge was for the protection. The high fences and walls that surrounded such villages offered traveller's the security of not having wild animals prowl through your makeshift camp site looking for a bite to eat or an arm or leg to naw on. Unfortunately, with these assorted peaceful trespasses you had to hand over all weaponry as a condition of that entry and occasionally had to make a reasonable and respectful donation. And yet at the same time not make the offering of money look as either charity or 'payment'. It had to look like a 'gift'. A fiscal gesture towards your host's willingness to put up with you and your 'strange ways' for a night. Xander had seen more then one tourist group, he was embarrassed to admit it: Fellow Countrymen, forget the importance of discretion as they started to wave their US Currency about. And by doing so they would inadvertently offend the very people they thought they were helping.

Generally in most of the places he travelled, Xander Harris, never had to endure such protocols. He was now known quite broadly as being the 'trustworthy' type, even if he did say so himself. And he was readily accepted in such refuges now without even having to surrender his weaponry, but he still paid them. Probably not so much in cash as more in doing a bit of carpentry work here and there around their enclosure. For some Village's, this type of expertise was judged as being more valuable to them then 'paper-money'.

Man, he never thought all those years of slinging a hammer and sporting a Level would pay off, but it had. His trade out here was sometimes a better fall back then actually having dollars in his hip pocket. Some of the usual villages he stayed at would actually, over time, put work aside just for him to fix. All with the expectation of him eventually rolling through their front gates one-day soon. It now amazed him how much he had learned over the past few years. Before he left America all those years ago, he was a licensed Carpenter. Now he could repair a faulty generator and was a half-decent bush-mechanic. And it was this growing skill-set had gotten him, and others, out of trouble more then once.

But Bangalla was for him a new territory. New and exciting. And even though for the past two years he had wanted to visit and establish fresh allegiances with some of the supernatural tribes that existed out here, one thing or another always seemed to get in his way. Usually that 'thing' involved a couple of adventures with the woman who now had complete and total control over his heart and life. And truth be known, he didn't mind that one bit.

To his left, Slayer, barked out. Shattering all his pleasant thoughts towards the upcoming visit of his wife.

Something had caught her eyes.

'Slayer' was a gift of the Mar'ka'aski Tribe from the country of Namibia. She was a year old purebred Rhodesian Ridgeback, and a dog that he had been specifically bonded to by the errant Were-Tribe. And no, that wasn't as creepy … or as illegal, as it had sounded. During his visit they had done _a Vulcan-Type-Mind-Meld thing_ between him and Man's Best Friend without him knowing, or even consenting to it. The result, Slayer, was able to anticipate his needs without having to be instructed or 'commanded' to do so. And though there was no direct communication, Slayer demonstrated a familiarity with her Master that went beyond all other Dog-Master relationships.

Usually, in the past, when he had been offered gift's he would politely turn them down. And with assorted knick-knacks like necklaces and ornamental hat's he could diplomatically refuse. Claiming he did not wish to display any favouritism of one Demon Tribe over another. But alas, Slayer was a living, breathing creature. One that had been bonded to him before he … or she … even knew what was happening. If he had rejected her, as he had successfully done so many times in the past with other gifts, it would have left the little puppy without any sense of purpose and probably even given her 'abandonment-issues', forcing upon her a life time of depression. Besides, one look into her caramel-doggie-eyes and he was well and truly hooked. Of coarse it didn't help that the 'little woman' was with him at the time and she was cooing and ahhing at the four legged puggy ball of fluff like it was her first born child.

Xander had always wanted to have a dog, ever since he was little, but his Mom and Pop had always refused this childhood wish. Claiming that he was too irresponsible to care for a pet. Irresponsible … Ha! He helped save the World how many times now? As far as he was concerned he was well and truly due. And not once since Slayer's 'adoption' had he regretted accepting her as his. Intelligent, resourceful, courageous, loyal and excellent doggie company during the quiet lonely nights. A perfect companion. Not only for sitting around a fire, but also getting into the thick of it as well. Slayer loved to fight just as must as her namesake implied. So whatever, Slayer, had presently detected off in the distance it was enough to earn from her a repeated flurry of deeply toned barks to try and earn his attention as well.

Straining his eye through the approaching decent of light, the American angled his head to follow 'Mans-best-friend' line of sight. Crawling over the ridge, just 30-yards away, he saw what she had spied. Two children with blonde hair. A boy and a girl. Both dressed the same, both about 8-9 years of age. What then drew his interest to this surprising scene was that the boy's arm was dark red. It didn't take an Einstein to recognise it as blood; he had seen this colour far too many times in the past to be fooled by another red-shade.

Without considering his kidney's for thousandth time that afternoon, Xander, sped up his vehicle and angled it towards the pair so that he could meet them as they both slid down the slope. He hastily put the cruiser in neutral, applied the handbrake whilst twisting around to disconnect his seatbelt. Then with practiced ease he slid his hand to the backseat to grab his double barrel shotgun.

To strangers such precautions, such as grabbing a loaded weapon in order to make contact with a couple of pre-teens may be thought as overkill. But he had been ambushed several times in the past and the bait was generally the same. It was often an injured or teary child putting out their thumb for a lift, or seeking aid. Seven out of ten times such things were a trap. The Good Samaritan naively steps out of their vehicle, prepared to offer assistance and suddenly they have 4-5 people jumping out of no-where wanting to say 'Hello'. With them being the only ones holding any weapons. Generally, if you were lucky, after they had offered you their so-called-greetings they would start grabbing all the free-standing gear you have. Only rarely had they ever actually taken his vehicle, and when they did they were usually polite enough to leave him stranded with a couple of litres of water to help keep him hydrated until someone else came along. Car Jacking's in Africa was a common crime, earning a light sentence if caught. But murder? That was life. And in Africa, life means just that: LIFE! No, being let out after 15-years with good behaviour. You kill someone, and get caught, not having a good enough excuse backing the murder up, and that would be all she wrote. Four Concrete Wall's and Gruel for the rest of your days.

In the past three years he had two trucks stolen at the point of a blade and a semi-automatic before he started to wise-up and play it safe by bringing his own gun to the party. In his experience it was now far better to have a gun and not need it then to need one and not have it. Surprisingly enough, as soon as he would exit his vehicle with shotgun in hand, all ready for action, the _in genuine people_ would suddenly feel as though they didn't need a lift anywhere anymore and then eagerly wave him on.

As he released his door catch he couldn't help but think that this whole macho scene would have been a major turn-on for Lara if she was around. If only Slayer, in her eagerness to exit the vehicle before him and take protective-point hadn't, as she crossed his lap to leap out of his now opened door, trotted on his family jewels as she did so.

Small pin-prick of tears met his eye as he tried to refrain from bursting out in hushed expletives.

Every time.

Every-damn-freakin'-time.

Taking a quick inhale of air to help compose himself, and focus away from the stabbing pain in his groin, Xander swung out of his seat, shotgun in hand. The imposing figure he tried to represent, however, did very little to intimidate the pre-teen boy as he charged up to him with a small knife in his hand. Ready to defend both himself as well as the girl. Slayer, who had now positioned herself between her Master and the would-be assailant, barked out a snarling threat that caused the young male to stop his feet from moving further onwards.

The boy's eyes quickly darted over to the dog to his left, taking an estimate to his success of overpowering a fully grown man with a shotgun as well as a defensive dog with only a 12-inch knife, all awhile sporting an injured arm.

Watching the blonde-males body language judgementally, Slayer ceased her warning growl. But did not take her eyes off the weapon in the youth's hands. The fact that the boy had not surrendered his knife when it was clear he was both out-matched and out-manned, earned from Xander his respect. And the fact that he was also able to quickly govern his actions by not proceeding to attack him also told Xander that the kid also had a quick mind. A mind fast enough to balance the variables of success in a fraction of an instant. The boy was also not intimidated by Slayer's growl, unlike most boy's his age would be … Hell, Xander had seen fully grown men wet themselves when Slayer was trying to assert herself. So this boy, who ever he was, was probably used to dealing with big scary dogs as well. These small facts probably would not have been noticed by too many people, but for Xander, who always prided himself as being pretty observant, for him it spoke more then he wanted it too. This kid was a scrapper. That made this little blonde-cherub both unpredictable and dangerous.

Realising that one of the two of them would have to make the first trusting-gesture, and him being the only adult for what could be fifty-miles, Xander placed his shotgun on the barren ground between them. After which he raised both his hands up in 'mock surrender'. He then cleared his throat in an effort to draw the boy's attention back from Slayer. This was not the time for '_friendly-Uncle-Xander'_, whatever was going down he had to be _'Mr Serious'_ if he was to get the answers he wanted.

"Okay, Junior. I've lowered my boom-boom stick. How about you do the same? You don't have to put it on the ground, but maybe just slide it into your waist band. Because if you don't do something with it real soon, my Dog might take it personally. Without bragging, she could tear you to bits before you could blink. And even if you could deliver her a killing strike, it would take me all of 2-seconds to pick up my gun once more and send you to whatever God you cherish. I don't want to do that, we're all friend's here. I promise. Just put the knife away and we can all breath easier."

Reluctantly the youth complied, sliding the blade into one of his belt loops. His eyes never leaving Xander as he performed this action.

Hoping to break the ice and get a dialogue started, the one-eyed man decided to speak the obvious. "You're hurt. I've got a First Aide Kit in the back of my Cruiser. I can treat you … or maybe, you can treat yourself. No funny business. You have my word."

The boy nodded his preference towards addressing his own wound then to rely on another to do it for him. Xander stepped to the back of his truck and opened the rear door. His hand fishing through covered up battle axes, swords, a crossbow and his birthday gift from the Ball-and-Chain, an _Accuracy International AWM Sniper Rifle_ snugly packed in a leather jacket. After several seconds he found the Kit with a bright green cross on the top and front.

Without wishing to startle the boy further with any aggressive gesture, Xander, offered the pack to the male mute. Placing it down on the ground between them both. The child took two steps forward and accepted it and with his left hand, unfastening the container, again, never allowing his eyes to leave the adult.

Xander stepped back, leaning against his Cruiser in an effort to sound casual. "Do you speak English? I only ask because that's really the only language I'm fluent in, I know some Swahili but …"

"I can speak English just fine."

"What about her?" Xander said, gesturing to the silent girl behind him. "Is she okay? She looks as though she's in shock."

"She'll be fine once we get home. Until then, don't talk to her … don't even look at her!"

The adult didn't appreciate the boy's tone; there was an edge to it. An edge that carried a chill in the words. A chill that genuinely made Xander take notice of the underlying threat being implied. But as surprisingly intimidated as he was he couldn't help notice that the top three-buttons of the young girl's blouse were missing and that she was hugging the cloth of her top tightly to her body. Her eyes offering a far away and haunted look. A look Xander had sadly seen far too many times on other little girl's faces on this continent.

Not wishing to start something that could only get worse, the one-eyed carpenter nodded his acquiescence and decided to focus his conversation upon the male. There were a lot of things wrong with this scenario. And he didn't like what he was seeing, what he was hearing and what he was now guessing must have happened to both children.

"Fine, kid. She's your business. I'm just trying to help, that's all."

The boy, realising the harshness of his earlier words looked momentarily ashamed and humbly nodded. "I'm sorry. You're right. My name is … my name is Kit and her name is Heloise, she's my sister."

"Yeah. Kinda guessed that already, Kit. What happened to you two?"

Kit looked over his shoulder to the still silent Heloise, the boy's hard expression softening to one of sorrow and guilt. "We were out riding. We saw a Camp and decided to warn them that they were a little too close to the Deep Woods."

The adventurer nodded. "Yeah, I've heard of that place. It's pretty much a no-go area, right? People go in, people rarely come out."

The boy offered a small and genuine smile, one that implied of a private joke or secret. "That's what they say. We didn't want them trespassing on the Bandar People's Territory by accident. They seemed very hospitable and grateful for the warning … we … we … let them get too close. The next thing we knew, seven of them grabbed us from our horses. They were Slavers. Slavers who were down on the Low Lands from the Misty Mountains."

Xander again nodded. Before coming to Bengalla he tried to familiarize himself as much as possible with the various factions and tribes. The 'Misty Mountains' were a group of Mineral Rich Mountains. Each mountain had its own kingdom and its own monarch. Christ, most of them were still living in the middle ages. Times of public executions, law's that changed with the mood of their Ruler's, Harem's and slaves. Two white-blonde-healthy-looking children could be sold for a mint to the right buyer. The girl especially. Xander casually cast his eye in the direction of Heloise, trying not to be obvious to it. For a nine year old girl she was very pretty. Her complexion, cheek bones, face and body definition was enough to tell him that in the years to come she would grow up into being a genuine beauty. Undoubtedly, she would have been the true prize out of the pair.

"They took us into one of their tents. Usually in these situations we just wait … patiently."

"Usually? This kind of thing happens to you two a lot?" By this stage Xander had established enough trust from the boy so that he could offer an extra hand rolling a bandage over his wound. A task, Kit, was finding difficult with only one available hand.

"Not like this, but yes, we have had some experience in being held captive. Our horses have been trained to return straight back to the cave if something happened to us …"

_Cave?!_

"… Our father would know something was wrong and then be able retrace their tracks. Coming to our rescue."

Xander taped the slip-shot bandaging together and closed the First Aide Case. "If that's what usually happens, why didn't you just wait?"

Kit looked over his shoulder once more at his sister. "They didn't give me a choice. The one in charge, he was saying things … things about Heloise. And we were proving … difficult. Not as docile and as obedient … or as scared as the other children they had kidnapped in the past. He didn't like it. He especially didn't like that Heloise was not being … co-operative. He … grabbed her. He started to … to touch her. He said that a girl as spirited as her needed to be broken first before she reached the auction block. I grabbed his knife from his belt and stabbed him. Not a killing blow, just enough of an injury to know he would be paying for touching my sister for the rest of his life. He screamed out. One of his men came in just as I was grabbing Heloise to run. He … he tried to kill me with his knife. All I could do was raise my arm up to defend and shield myself. As you can see, he stabbed me as well. In the chaos of those second's I was able to get the better of them, and we fled. I dragged my sister, who as you can see, was … well … she isn't dealing with what nearly happened to her well. For the last 20-minutes we've been making a bee-line to the Wood's."

With each sentence, Kit's voice became more strained, his body beginning to shake in anger. Xander didn't need to hear anymore. He had heard enough. This … Animal, whoever he was, was about to rape Kit's sister and Kit did what every brother would have done in those circumstances. He tried to protect her. He attacked this monster and the two of them then fled. This meant ….

As though on queue, the sound of dirt bikes could be heard in the distance. Kit's eyes widen in terror. Xander and the boy then rushed up the slope the twin's had slid down just four-minutes earlier. Peering over the horizon, allowing the brown stalks of grass to help conceal their heads, the two males saw four bikes riding in formation.

"I'm guessing they're looking for you?"

"I don't know how, I was very careful."

Xander pointed to the now bandaged arm. "I'm guessing they're following your blood trail."

Kit looked down at his arm then over to his sister, she had not moved an inch. "Father would have only now realised that something had happened to us. It would take him at least an hour ... maybe less ... to find and follow Thunder and Cloud's trail back to their Camp."

"Look, kid, I don't know who your Pop is, but he ain't ... well... he's not Batman."

"Bat … who?"

"Forget it. What I'm saying is that no one is coming, at least not at the moment. Not even the Jungle Patrol. And my old girl, as fast and as nimble as she is, she won't be able to out race a bike designed specifically for this terrain."

Kit closed his eyes tightly, wishing that there was another option. "Then you go. They're looking for us. The worst that will happen is that they'll re-capture us. They wouldn't dare cause me or Heloise any physical injury, especially anything that will scar us. The more marks on us, the more their profit margin slides. I'm sure we can wait them out until my father comes to get us."

Xander looked at this boy … this young man with stunned awe. "You've got big ones, Kit. I'll give you that."

Trying to ignore the growing sound of the oncoming bikes, Kit offered a smirking smile. "Thanks … I think."

The one-eyed carpenter returned the smirk. "But you're an idiot just the same."

Xander stood up and ran back down the slope to his truck. He opened his rear door again and removed his rifle case from the backseat. With fluid speed he unzipped the case and pulled out the sniper rifle and a full magazine.

"My wife would never forgive me if I just drove off leaving a couple of adorable urchin's like you two to a fate worse then death. Christ, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself either."

Xander then slid into place a scope and began climbing back up the small hill. When he got to the top he folded out the rifle's pronged legs, planting them firmly in the earth to help avoid recoil and to steady the barrel. He then flipped open the front and rear lens cap of his sight, stripped the tips off a few dry stalks and threw them lightly into the air before him. A light breeze catching what he had thrown and causing the remnants to float passively to the north. With nimble finger's he made a slight adjustment to his sight.

Kit looked at all this with his mouth slightly opened, the co-ordination and speed this stranger had taken to prepare and position himself was more then a surprise to him. He had only seen one man move as purposefully when handling a weapon like that, and that person was his father.

Wedging his shoulder into the rest and fixing his one good eye in line with the scope, Xander, started to take some deep and calming breaths. On the fifth he spoke to the boy, his eye never leaving the scope. "Kit, stand up on the ridge. Let them see you. My depth perception hasn't been the best for the last few-years and I need these clowns's to either slow down or stop before I can take a shot."

"You're going to kill them?"

At first, Xander, was startled at the concern lacing the boy's voice. After what these monsters's tried to do he would have thought such charity would be beyond him.

"They wouldn't be the first animal's I've had to put down, Kit. But no, I'm not planning on killing them. Not unless they give me a choice. I don't kill if I can avoid it. But still, I wouldn't lose any sleep over it if that's what I end up having to do."

Kit felt as though he should say something, he just nodded his understanding to the stranger's sentiment. But then he remembered something his father once told him. "We have to be better then the ones we oppose, Xander. If we sink to their level, then we are no better then them."

"Kid, the stuff my dog leaves behind after he's had my wife's stew is ten-times better then these guys on their best day as far as I'm concerned. It wouldn't take much to be better then them as far as I'm concern. But trust me; I won't shoot to kill unless they give me no choice."

Kit looked back down to his sister; she was gently rocking to the on-coming sound of the trail bikes. He could not imagine what thoughts were now going through her mind. She was always so confident and generous. He was the cautious and determined one. Now … now he couldn't recognise her as the sister she once was. He was even now left wondering if letting this stranger kill the ones responsible for her current state would not be a bad thing. He was certain that their father, if he was here and knew what they nearly did to him and his sister … his own daughter … their father had on rare occasions 'accidentally' killed evil-doer's. And Heloise was his daughter … NO! They were *better*. And now was the time they proved it!

Without fear, the blonde boy scrambled over the ridge and made himself visible to the four 'hunters'. As Xander had expected, the quartet, all slowed or stopped their bikes. The one in a red tee-shirt shouted out an address to the child. "You, Boy. You big trouble for us. You be smart. Not make more trouble."

Kit looked down to Xander and whispered. "Now what? Aren't you going to shoot?"

With a snarl, directed more to the target's then the child he was addressing, Xander answered. "Warn them."

"What?"

"Warn them. Always give them the choice. That way if this ends up getting messy with the authorities you can claim that they provoked the issue. Tell them that this is their only chance to live to see another day. Let them know you're not afraid and that you have their collective lives in your hands."

"But…"

"Tell them, Kit. Especially about you not being afraid. If you don't do this now. If you don't tell them. Show them how brave you are. It will haunt you. You understand me? You gotta stare them down, and do it now, or they'll 'own' you for the rest of your life."

Kit again looked down at his sister. His trembling sister. This stranger was right. He was to one-day be the 22nd Phantom. He could not allow some childhood memory and trauma govern his life. Taking a deep breath, he shouted out across the expanse. "YOU LEAVE NOW AND I PROMISE YOU, NO ONE WILL HAVE TO DIE BEFORE THE SUN GOES DOWN!"

The 'makeshift leader' of this small gathering looked to his companions and bellowed out an exaggerated laugh. "How about you and that sweet-tiny ass sister of yours come over to us now and *we* promise that you will be the one not dying tonight? Your sis? Her, we have plan's for. You? If you be good, not cause more trouble for our boss, you might live to be sold. You cause more trouble for us and then we don't care what happens to you. An' neither will the God's."

This was more then enough for Xander to know the calibre of the beast's he was about to fire upon. Offering himself a small prayer that his ammunition flew true and straight. He tightened his finger around the trigger. A sharp jolt into his shoulder was met with a dull crack of the bullet leaving the chamber of his rifle. The front light of the lead bike shattered into a thousand shards.

Instinctively, the Slaver's all ducked. A couple taking shelter behind the very bikes, Xander, had been aiming at.

The Adventurer freed the spent shell and drew back the bolt on the side to allow a fresh shell to enter the chamber. The second shot flew truer then the first, as now Xander had a chance to adjust his aim. His original target was met with spectacular explosion of rubber. The front tyre of the lead bike and its rim damaged beyond all salvation.

Taking his eye away from the sight, Xander, whispered up to Kit. "Tell them the next shot will ensure one of them won't be walking away from here if they don't flee now."

"IF YOU DON'T LEAVE NOW, THE NEXT SHOT YOU HEAR WILL BE MET WITH SOMEONE'S BRAIN SPRAYING OUT ONTO THE EARTH."

If Kit was expecting this show of bravado to have been enough to scare them off, he was mistaken. Two pounced out from cover and a spray of rapid fire was made in the boy's direction. Kit's first impulse was to jump down or try and dodge, but he felt the adult's hand grasp his ankle and hold it tight.

"Don't move. You're safe. Those are short range. Scary, sure. But useless at this distance. Nothing but show and noise. Anything more then 50-yards and they lose both their accuracy and power. Don't let them see you sweat, Kit. I've stared down some pretty … well … some pretty scary things in my life. Never underestimate the power of the Bluff. The only reason I'm alive still is because I have a good poker-face and can smile and laugh when death is staring right back at me." Xander then shifted his head once more back in order to align with his sight. He took another deep breath and the barrel of his rifle again released a deep crack of sound.

Kit's head immediately turned to face the small group of evil doer's in the distance. The one in the red tee shirt, the self-designated 'leader' of the group, leg buckled and a howl of pain crossed over the expanse. He fell to his left, knocking over one of the undamaged bikes that two of his 'men' were cowering behind. His hands wrapped around his mid-thigh, as he began screaming out obscenities.

The boy looked down at Xander, just as he finished drawing his bolt back and freeing the empty shell from his weapon. "I … I thought you were going to kill one of them?"

"I said I never kill unless I have a choice. I also told you that one of them would not be walking away from here, and I kept my word on that. You're the one who adlibbed with the whole brain's thing."

Kit turned his head back in the direction of the group. The three of them were scrambling, all looking from where the shot's may have been fired and wondering if they would be next.

Taking advantage of the chaos, the pre-teen male, pressed his advantage. "YOU ALL HAVE ONE MINUTE TO LEAVE HERE PEACEFULLY. IF YOU ARE STILL HERE IN 61-SECONDS, YOU WILL ALL LIVE TO REGRET THAT CHOICE."

The small group of men looked at one another and shared some private words, without speaking out aloud their intent, they then quickly began to organise themselves. Two of them assisting the third as they placed 'Red-Shirt' on the rear half of the third-surviving bike. His hollering still eagerly being heard by Xander and the boy. Moment's later, all remaining three-bikes, departed. Leaving the fourth, lying lonely on the makeshift field of battle.

Kit looked down at his and Heloise's champion, smiling. "Their leaving!"

Xander continued to look through his scope, speaking from the side of his mouth, watching them disappear into the distance. "No kid, they're regrouping. I count four. Didn't you say that that there were several who jumped you and your sister? Not counting the one who probably stayed behind at their camp. Who I'm guessing is their real Leader, not this bozo.

"I'm also guessing that after you 'stung' him, he'd want you two back in a mighty big way. And if they can't have you, then they'll want you dead and silenced. The last thing they will need is witnesses. Someone who can make a report and identification to the Jungle Patrol.

"With the spray of machine gun fire and my own three shot's, we're probably looking at maybe 5-minutes before they all catch-up with one another and start making their way back in this direction. And this time I don't think they'll be kind enough, or stupid enough, to stop and get off their bikes for me to take pot-shots at."

Xander proceeded to flip down both his front and rear lens-cap and retract the two legs from the front of the rifle. He then looked over in the direction of the setting sun, shielding his eye. "We've lost 10-minutes. We got at best, maybe 30-minutes, to put some serious distance between us and here. If the others are on bikes too, then they'll be on us like a pack of Jackal's in no time unless we get somewhere say or hidden."

Xander, crocking the butt of the rifle under his arm, with the nozzle pointing downwards, he began to slide down the dirty slope to his faithful Slayer, who was patiently waiting at the base of the slope for his return to her. Slayer's tail wagging happily that all, from her K-9 perspective, appeared well.

Kit dutifully followed behind the Carpenter, watching him quickly draw out the magazine cartridge and go over the rifle with an oil cloth before sliding the weapon back into its leather jacket. On the butt of the rifle, the boy saw that an unusual engraving in cursive was made_. _The engraving was_: 'The Other Woman'_.

Without looking over his shoulder to address the boy, Xander, made an announcement. "We're out of here! Grab your sister and get in the front seat. 'Rhino' … well … she may not be pretty. But she's got character and she's gotten me and mine out of tougher scrapes. She'll do the same now, or die trying."

"But our father *"

"* KIT, I DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT YOUR OLD MAN. I *DO* HOWEVER GIVE A DAMN ABOUT YOU AND YOUR SISTER. NOW GET IN MY FUCKEN' TRUCK OR I WILL THROW YOU BOTH IN BY FORCE IF I HAVE TOO."

Kit looked over his shoulder to his still trembling sister, then up to the sun. Xander, was right. Which he found annoying. That posse would be back here in another five-minutes, maybe even sooner and they were burning valuable daylight with his arguing. They didn't have time to bicker and to delay.

Ten minutes ago they were stranger's, and now this man was about to risk his life so that he and his sister might not only live to see another day, but to also keep their freedom. Kit silently swore to himself that if by some miracle he and his sister survived this then he would make sure his father would know of his courage and selflessness. Rewarding him accordingly.

The Phantom Line would forever owe him a debt, a debt he doubted that they would ever be able to repay.

But … only if they survive.

Kit ran to his sister and yanked her arm in an effort to make her follow him, he then partly dragged her around the truck to the passenger-side front door and shoved her in the middle as Xander opened the driver side door, folding the front seat down and then urging the Ridgeback to jump. As she began to make herself comfortable in her new seat, Xander went to pick up his shotgun from the ground, carefully wedging it on the back seat beside her. He then folded his seat back up. Within 15-seconds, the owner of the vehicle was again behind the wheel. Without saying another word he turned the key, placed the Cruiser in gear and hit the gas.

The four of them were now in for the ride of their lives. In more ways then one.

_1234_

_I hope you enjoyed the Intermission (Part One). And that people were happy with the Xander action. We next go back to Buffy …._

_As always, I am a fool for Reviews. I love them. The more the merrier. Please let me know your thoughts. But no flames, please. I am sensitive _

_1234_


	11. Chapter 11

The Slayer looked at the old gentleman to her right with disbelief. This man, who mere moments before she had thought of as a sweet and charming 'Grandpa'-type-figure, was now all but snarling. Behaving much like a rabid dog that had just caught the scent of some bleeding hapless animal.

The startled Summer's-daughter looked to Rupert Giles, expecting his expression to be mirroring her own startled one. But instead what she viewed was … amusement. Amusement as well as an odd calmness. After a few more seconds of expletives from the 'aged-one', her former Watcher gently laid the previously projectile-Cane on the bare-wooden-real estate before him. Making certain that the implement, which had been thrown several seconds before at his very own head, was still very much out of the snatching grasp of the Senior-Citizen.

There was no doubt about it. As far as she could see, Giles, seemed to be actually enjoying Mr Archer's antics. He carried an expression of his face that she had not seen in … well … years. And it did not take the Slayer long to recognise that 'glint' of concealed mirth. It was the same mischievous twinkle in the eyes that had always accompanied Xander whenever he went out of his way to push Giles' buttons. Buttons that had earned the reaction he had been both expecting and hoping for from the former British-Librarian. At least that's what she thought, but then again over the last few days she had to admit she had Xander-on-the-brain. It did not take much to trigger some familiar memory to the male-Scooby.

But still … could it be that Giles was to Reginald Archer Senior, as Xander had always been to him?

Is that also how Giles possibly viewed his own relationship with the male Sunnydalian?

As this foreign thought both entered and then exited the Slayer's mind, in her peripheral, she then took note of another reaction, one that was *also* far too familiar to her. It was a motion she had seen Giles do a thousand times before. Reginald drew off his face his wired spectacles in frustrated annoyance, proceeded to pinch the bridge of his nose in an effort to reign in his growing temper before it exploded beyond his control. He then began to vigorously polish his Glasses with an errant handkerchief he had drawn from his vest-coat pocket.

This was an almost … surreal. And in a lot of ways it also explained a lot. The Immortal once told her that 90-percent of all unconscious behaviour was usually learned and developed by people unknowingly imitating someone they either admired or loved. She, herself, had seen evidence of this many times with Dawn and her mother (when she was still alive). The two would flow and be in perfect synch with one another. Whether it was negotiating their way around a table at breakfast time, or clothes shopping with one another. The two had a connection that went deeper than words or deeds. It was one of the things she had always been jealous and envious of. Especially in that last year of their mother's life. Buffy always had a sense that their Mom always preferred Dawn's company to her own. Granted, being a Slayer and having the life that she did may have contributed slightly to the 'hands-off-mothering' approach. And she had to admit, their relationship never really got back on track after she had been a runaway for those four months. And less said about the way she broke the news to her that her daughter was some mystical warrior destined to die pointlessly and that she had been keeping that news from her for two-years.

Sure, things got a little better when she was accepted into Sunnydale Collage. She felt that Mom had become … proud of her again. Saving the World stuff was great and all, but ensuring that her little girl made it to the next level of education … that she would have the chance to make a career for herself … That was a special type of pride only a parent could have and feel that they had contributed too. Buffy was just glad she never had gotten the chance to witness her flipping burgers at the Double-Meat and being designated a 'College-Dropout' after only one-year. Let alone the whole 'sexing' around with Spike thing.

No, now that she thought about it there was more of Joyce Summer's in Dawn then in her. She probably got all her father's traits. Not entirely of the 'good', as far as she was concerned. Her dad was impatient, stubborn and was a bit of a narcissist. Basically, he was your typical Los Angeles Lawyer.

Buffy continued to watch Giles with wonder, a small smile slightly tugging at the corners of the middle aged Librarian's lips. The way Giles always seemed to bare Xander's needling with a degree of both patience and humour seemed to make perfect sense to her now. This was some kind of 'full-circle' thing. Where the _student-becomes-the-teacher_-_to-the-next-student-thingy._

Forcing an air-of-tedium in his tone, the Chief Watcher addressed his angered and older subordinate.

"Are you now fully done with the ranting, Old Man? Or are you trying to give yourself another heart attack?"

Lowering his hand and replacing his glasses, Archer Snr, bit out a response. "It was an ulcer, you little snot. Not a heart attack."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I stand corrected."

"Damn right you do! What the Hell were you thinking? Lovers?! Why in God's Gracious Name did you tell her about the Lover's?"

"Hey! I'm sitting right here y'know. If you want to yell at anyone, how about yelling at me!"

The aged Watcher spared the Slayer a second to look at her once more. But then returned the focus of his attention back upon his former student, Rupert Giles. "Well? Tell me you insolent little fag."

"HEY! You can't call him that."

"I'll call this impertinent upstart, whatever the Hell I like, child."

"NOT WHILE I'M STANDING WITHIN '_KNOCK-YOUR-WRINKLED-HEAD-CLEAR-OFF-YOUR-NECK_' DISTANCE YOU'RE NOT."

"Buffy …*"

"Giles, he just called you a *"

"He called me a Fag. Yes, I know."

"And you're cool with this?"

"Depends upon the context. In Reginald's case I am certain he was referring to its original meaning. Fag, Buffy, is an Old English Public School term, one that was reference towards 'Junior Boys'. Mr Archer, when he gets a little … exhilarated … much like now, sometimes tends to forget that we are not all character's borne from that pages of 'Tom Brown's Schooldays'. Believe you me, Buffy; I take no offence in Mr Archer's momentary lapse in decorum. And trust me; he has referred to me with even worse insults then that in my years."

"THEN YOU CAN EXPECT MORE IN THE COMING MINUTES YOU … YOU … NINCOMPOOP! How in Beelzebub's Bedpan did she *"

Giles shrugged, cutting the elderly man off, and looking quite meek and mild as he did so. "She found out on her own. I didn't tell her a thing."

Reginald scoffed as he again looked at the petite blonde to his left. "You must be joking. She doesn't look like a page-turner to me."

Giles offered a small chuckle before he responded. "Believe me, Old Man, she's not. In this instance she happened to have been told."

"By whom?"

Even Buffy couldn't mistake the malice that carried in the old man's voice with the asking of the question. She could easily imagine the old codger getting up and then through only strength of will and a healthy dose of Prune Juice storm the estate of Dawn's new benefactor. Giles however just offered the man another shrug, as though to imply that it really didn't matter anymore, as the cat was now well and truly out of the bag. "Croft. Lara Croft. *LADY* Lara Croft."

Reginald's eyes began to squint as if he was trying to recall the name in his mental library. "Hmmm…. there was a Watcher Croft about a hundred and fifty years ago. Relation of his?"

Buffy's jaw nearly dropped to her lap at hearing this answer. Whoever this old guy was, he certainly knew his Watcher History. And from this it became crystal clear why Giles had called him to his office.

Clearing her throat in an effort to interject herself into the conversation again. Buffy, steeled her nerves and spoke up. "Yeah. This Watcher Croft guy was her Great, Great, Great something-or-other."

Reginald nodded, accepting Buffy claim. But there was obviously something troubling him. Something Giles also noted.

"Is there a problem, Old Man?"

Archer Snr leaned further in, in an effort to address Giles privately. Unfortunately his effort to whisper his question to the Head Watcher failed in the volume-front. "Is she … you know … her?"

"Her, who?" Giles answered. Puzzlement clearly showing.

"Croft … *her*."

"I'm still not following, Old Chap."

"Lara Croft … The Tomb Raider … The Viscountess-Vixen."

Giles rolled his eyes. "She's a little out of your League, Old Man. Aren't you seventy years on the wrong-side of puberty? For goodness sake, you're old enough to be her grandfather. There comes a time when those Trashy Tabloid's you stick your nose in periodically stop becoming an amusing distraction and instead starts becoming a very creepy-habit."

"I'm *old*, not *dead*. And I'm far from blind, you cur." Reginald sneered out the corner of his mouth. "You might be content with your poetry and that ridiculous guitar of yours, trying your 'luck' at the Notting Hill Starbucks. Oh yes, Rupert, we *all* know where you disappear every Tuesday and Thursday night after 9. You pretentiously trying to swoon all the Notting Hill cougar's and Mil*"

"Co … Cougar's?" Buffy spat out in surprise, looking disappointingly at her former Watcher. Shaking her head in disapproval. She had known for some time that Giles used to 'try-his-luck' with the various mature divorcees of Sunnydale ever since the gang discovered him serenading a group of them during the 'haunted-frat-house' adventure in her first year of college. But she had thought he had since moved on from that bit of embarrassment. It seems now that she was mistaken. But still, she didn't need those images in her head at the moment and she would rather they return to point. A week ago she would have enjoyed having this bit of personal blackmail knowledge on the guy who signed her cheques. But now … now it all seemed quite petty. And as much as she would have enjoyed sitting back and hearing the banter between the 'grey-hairs', it was a distraction. One she didn't want or need. Something big was in the offing. If it wasn't, Giles, wouldn't have shied away from dealing with it himself. Instead he called in an advocate. This was not in the realms of anything … good, warm, cuddly or even remotely fuzzy.

**Cough, cough*. Anyway, to get back on track. My sister and I had dinner with *Lady* Croft the other night and afterwards she mentioned to us both an interesting titbit about Slayer's and their 'True-Love'. According to her and her Ancestor's Journal, for every prison cell there is a key to help free you from it. Curious, I decided to investigate further to see if what she had told me held any water and was on the up-and-up.

"Anyway, over the past half-hour, Giles has been enlightening me on these various 'Lovers of Athena' people. But we've … well, we have kinda stalled at the moment. He said there was more for me to know. Things of importance. But instead of telling me all this himself, he instead chose to called you in. And I'm not going to deny it; I'm burning with curiosity as to why that is."

At completion of her say, both Buffy and Reginald then turned their heads in the direction of the man on the other side of the desk and awaited his response.

"Yes … well … Buffy is absolutely correct. She and I have reached a … well, a delicate point. And I was certain that if I was the one who imparted what is to follow, that … that she'd think I was exaggerating the severity of things."

"I see." The aged Watcher to her right answered. He then looked back upon the blonde with an appraising eye. "So I was sent up here … beckoned, if you will. To be your bearer of bad tidings." Giles just nodded, not offering any further word on the subject. "*Hmmf* Tell me young lady, what exactly has Rupert told you thus far?"

"To be honest, Reggie," The old man winced. "Not a whole freakin' lot. Interesting, sure. But it's mainly been made up of warnings and theories. Plus a few stories. Brunhilde and her White Knight, and a guy called Holtz."

Reginald nodded, doing his best to dismiss the 'Reggie' slight … for the moment at least.

"Ahh yes, Holtz. What a magnificent specimen he was. Relentless. Feared. Uncompromising. It was a crying shame that the Order had burnt its bridges with him after his wife, Caroline, had become 'ordinary' again. What an ally he would have made. But he chose to work for the Vatican instead of us. Did you know that, child? That he favoured being one of their clan-destined Knights of the Holy Seal then being one of our Soldier's?"

Buffy nodded, acknowledging to the elder Englishman her awareness of this recently revealed fact. And then allowing the old Watcher to continue further.

"He didn't like how we had treated his bride whilst she was single and a Slayer. Thought our method of training her was positively medieval … barbaric.

"Still it did not prevent members of our Order from approaching him several times with an invitation to join our ranks. Urging him on the benefits of siding with us over those pointy hats in Rome. Talent is talent, after all. But he would have none of it. Said he could never work with … or for matter trust the people who had treated his wife as a '_resource borne only to be exploited'_."

"Sounds like the kinda guy I could admire."

"Yes … yes. I can understand why you would say that." Archer commented off-handedly. "Quite a shame what happened to Caroline and their children. Terrible. Unconscionable. To be forced to slay your own Daughter. She had not even tasted her first drop of blood. As a Demon-Spawn, she was still quite … well … Innocent … towards what she truly was and what she had been made into. It was cruel beyond either words or reasoning.

"There were many various reports claiming that it was this act of having to murder his own Vampiric-Child that was the true cause of his Vendetta against the soon to be known 'Scourge of Europe'. What he was forced to do completely devastated him. Driving him to the brink of madness … and who knows, maybe it even took him beyond madness. The death of his wife and son, he could accept this … within reason. They died human. But both Darla and Angelus had twisted the last memory he had of his dear little girl. They had perverted her. Corrupted her memory. Making this vampire-childe a twisted mockery of her life. Warping this cherished remembrance of her for all time. Holtz would now never be able to remember her darling face without knowing that it was by his own hand that he had made it into instant-ash.

"What drives a man to both blood and fury? I do not know, but I suspect something like that would."

Buffy turned her head away, only now truly comprehending the misery inflicted upon this man borne over a hundred years ago. That was, she suspected, the problem with being a Slayer. After a number of years of doing her 'job' she started to become jaded to the many harms done by the Beings' she killed.

She never allowed herself to give much thought to the many victim's or families of these victims. They just fell into being people who were in 'The wrong place at the wrong time' Category. But these people, even the ones who became Vampires, were once loved and had loved ones who would mourn their disappearances. And these people would never know what ever happened to them. Only that one day they were 'here' and the next they had disappeared. There was never any closure for them. These mother's, father's, brothers, sisters, husbands, wives, boyfriend's, girlfriend's, daughter's and son's would go through the rest of their lives never knowing the truth. Never knowing that the Supernatural existed and that someone they had loved had become its prey.

Giles had once attempted to warn and educate her of Angelus's sadist and cruel side. And she thought she had been prepared for the absolute worst of it. Nailing puppies to the door of one of his crushes, she thought was the worst. But as with most things, she never ever really gave to much depth to her thinking, she never ever dared too. After all, Angelus was Angel's 'monster-self' and she *loved* Angel. She could not bear hearing anything that would forever skew this perception of him, no matter how vile or honest it may have been.

But she also knew if Angel, or even Spike had ever turned Dawn or even her own mother. Knowing what they had now become, would she have had either the inner strength and fortitude in her to slay them as Holtz had to do with his own daughter? She didn't really know. But she now believed she understood … and appreciated … the kind of red-hazed drive that would compel this Captain Holtz guy to make even Angelus and Darla run scared. Because for her there wouldn't be a pebble on this planet she wouldn't turn over, or a demon she wouldn't kill, just to get one inch closer to the one who had instigated this type of misery onto her life.

"… Eventually even Rome grew to fear him and the lengths he was willing to go. All in the pursuit of gaining his reprisal upon 'the night dwellers'. There was a Spanish Cardinal, who eventually in-time became Pope Pius IX, he was penned to have said, in Italian of course, that Holtz: '_Had become the very wrath of the Lord towards all the soulless and unclean that littered this glorious World_'. Quite the Testimonial, isn't it my dear. Being compared to the very Wrath of God himself.

"Holtz was one of those rare '_Get-on-board-or-get-out-of-the-way'_ type personalities. We never really found out what ever happened to him. He just … *popped* … out of existence. No doubt he probably met some obscene end, as most Demon Hunter's and Slayer's tend to do. But still, what a specimen."

Buffy turned her head back to face the speaking Englishman, doing her best not to betray any emotion on her features as she recounted in her mind the plight of the Demon Hunter. "Yeah, but when, Giles, told the story to me he did it in a way that I would look upon his fate as something I ought to pity, not admire."

"Yes, well, Rupert was always a bit of a romantic sop. To each to their own, as they say. Some of us see the glass as half empty; others see it as half full." Archer Snr. leaned over from his seat so that he could be as close to Buffy as he could, and pondered to her a question. "How do *you* see the World, my dear?"

Buffy wanted to answer that she generally saw things as half-full, but she knew that would be a lie. Her life, ever since she became a Slayer, always had a 'half-empty' theme to it. And besides, what would be the point of lying? Especially to a stranger. "Half empty. I guess I see my life as pretty much half-empty of nothing but suckiness." Buffy mumbled out.

The answer was accompanied by a short snort of acceptance from the aged Historian. "Well … at least you're honest about it." Archer Snr then glared at Rupert Giles. "So he only told you stories and theories, hmmm? I suppose you want me to be the one to do the hard bit? To do all the heavy lifting, as it were. To be the so-called 'Bad-Guy'?"

Doing his best to conceal a relieved smile, Giles answered. "If you don't mind, Old-Man. I'll pip in if it all starts to go over her head and then I'll try and simplify it all for her. But I think if it came from a source who … well … isn't me, she'll consider it a lot more reliable and true."

Reginald Archer Snr. snorted out his distain, muttering a word that sounded very much like 'coward' under his breath. The aged man then slowly closed his eyelids and refused to open them. He then proceeded to speak, almost reciting. Choosing to ignore all external distractions as he did so. His voice was steady, so steady in fact that it did not allow the slayer any opportunity to interrupt. Only too listen.

"Very well. The Council, Ms Summer's, is not as old as we have always tried to make it out to be to the 'outsider'. It was formed, if you wish to call that initial and simple relationship between both Slayer and her Guardian just over a thousand years ago.

"It was a perilous time back then; the old ways that had always kept people safe for a hundred generations were now being crushed under the enthusiastic heel of a religion to a 'one-and-only-God'. Slowly, its banner and influence began to creep it's way over Europe. Gaining popularity with each passing decade and generation. And for all the good the spread of Christianity claims to have accomplished back in this 'unenlightened time', I fear that in its wake it also did much wrong as well. The various tales of caution, such as never inviting people into your home after dark, sprinkling salt over the threshold of doorways and window sills and such were cast into the realms of 'Folklore', and Fairy tales. And to practice such precautions had you marked as a Heretic for all to know."

Reginald then paused, more for effect then because he had forgotten what next to say. After a moment, he reopened his eyes and refocused his gaze to the window to his side and the view that lay beyond the glass.

"There is little known about the Elder, except that his twin-sister was a Slayer. The legend goes that she awoke one morning with the strength to be able to lift a fully grown cow over her head, and that she had become faster than the fastest boy in their entire village. Her family, friends and neighbours marvelled and all thought her new gifts a blessing. However, on the sixth night after receiving this 'blessing' she awoke from a frightening and violent nightmare. Her screams so loud that it awoke the entire community in which she lived.

"When she was questioned, she spoke nothing but gibberish to anticipating ears. She spoke of a dream … a nightmare … a 'Vision'. One where she saw a beast and great danger. Calling out that it was near and that people had to flee. Flee for their very lives and Souls. Before anyone could process or even understand what she had said, she then ran from the hut. Leaving all her concerned neighbours at a loss to the motives of her strange actions. Only her twin, and deeply concerned brother chose to immediately pursue her into the night. Calling out her name repeatedly as he tried to catch-up and keep pace to her quicken tread. But her drive to confront this Evil was too great, and she easily ignored his pleas for her to return.

"He stumbled and he fell repeated times. Barely keeping her in sight under the full moon. Her feet, it seemed, were following a path that only she knew. And when her brother eventually caught up with her she was in the midst of a battle with a large wolf-like being. It was a savage fight. One which did not allow interference from brotherly spectators. After minutes, the Slayer of that time, gained the advantage and snapped the wolf's neck. The were-beast fell to the ground and as it did it reverted back to its human-self. The timing of her victory, however, couldn't have been worse. If only she had drawn out the melee for a few moment's more. Toyed with the Beast. But alas, she didn't. It was scant seconds later, after the werewolf collapsed, that several villagers, ones who did not have the speed or the stamina of the siblings they were chasing, had finally caught up with the pair.

"These witnesses only saw a freshly killed man, a local and well known farmer no-less, lying at the feet of a girl who would have been thought of just moments before by all of them as either crazed or possessed. They shouted out 'murder' and pointed the accusing finger to her as the lone culprit. Justice back then, my dear girl, was both swift and decisive. No court officially existed. Only mob mentality and hasty retribution.

"She was indeed fortunate that they chose instead not to take matters into their own hands. Truly, she could have been stoned, drown, burnt, or hung. Possibly even impaled on a pitchfork. Fortunately the Elder, her brother, was able to calm their spirits and tempers. Directing her punishment to the only recognised authority in the Land in which they all lived. They unanimously agreed, most likely because the dead Farmer in question was not a particularly well liked person in the region, that their Lord and Master alone had the right to pass judgement on this matter and not they.

"At any rate, the next day she was promptly bought before the Noble of that land. During her … let's call it a 'Trail'; she claimed that the dead man had actually been a large wolf. Her only supporter to this version: her brother. Unfortunately the Lord felt the Elder's testimony was … compromised and biased. And that he was only supporting her claims in-order to protect his sister from rightful execution. And that the story of a wolf turning into a man, or vice versa, was un-Christian and too ridiculous to ever give credence too in their ever so slowly enlightening world. That this was a tale worthy of their ancestor's and that such exaggerated stories belonged solely to the past, not the present or the future. His sentence upon her was … predictable.

"Three days later, the day before the Sabbath. The then-Slayer had the opportunity to make her final confession. After which she was promptly burned at the stake before a fevered crowd. All as her twin-brother watched haplessly. With the passing of the full month … his punishment for trying to mislead justice … was met. He was then released from his cell and given his freedom. With both, the soon-to-be 'Elder', swore to whatever Old God's still listening, as it was now proven to him that the 'new God' certainly wasn't, that he would make right his failure to shield his sister and that he would seek out others like her and offer them his protection. All to make up for his self-perceived failure as a brother.

"The Elder, who was now all but shunned by his village, travelled. Territories, boundaries, land's, countries. He crossed them all without regard or care. Learning and picking up knowledge as he went. Living on the fringes with the other disenfranchised. Making friendships with those who still embraced the old ways and teachings. Over time he picked up stories. Tales of monster's and devils. Eventually he would come across another traveller who were knowledgeable of the Dark Art's. And he would learn as much as they were willing to teach. Spells and Wards. He discovered how to properly defend himself in fights, both mystical and physical and how to turn those assaults against his attackers. He learned about potions and cures. And in every village he went he asked about other girls who might have been able to lift fully grown cows and could run like the wind. In some villages he was successful in hearing histories that paralleled his sister's fate, but in most his enquiries ran dry.

"He travelled secretly, helping others as much as he could with the various skills he had acquired. Earning his keep as a Healer of sorts. The sad memory of his dearest sister forever motivating him forward when most would have given up and settled down. He did his best to avoid notice by the quickly growing influence of the Church. In some provinces he was successful … in others … well, it was a good thing he knew how to cast a Spell or two.

"In his fortieth year, as best we can measure, fortune favoured his quest. He came to a small village in France and there he asked a local the same question he had asked a thousand times before: _Did he know of any young girls in the area who one day woke up with great strength and speed?_ To his surprise he was told '_Yes, such a girl you speak of is my daughter_.'

"The Elder thought all his Christmases had come at once, even though back then Christmas had not been invented. He then enquired into whether it was possible for him to meet her. The father did not see the harm to this odd request and lead him straight to her. They walked to a rear paddock that they managed for their Noble as his loyal serfs. It was a pathetic and improvised field, lumpy and dry. A land of little to no potential for a decent yield. And there in the far off distance was a girl the same age as his sister when she was 'Called' some thirty years earlier, shifting a weight that would be beyond two-grown and able men.

"With excitement, the Elder, sought council with the Father to discuss his daughter's future. The Father, as you might expect, saw only gold and opportunity. To possess a daughter who was not only beautiful, as all Slayer's are gifted to being, was one thing. But to have a daughter who was beautiful, as strong as a Team of Horses and faster than a falcon in flight? That would only escalate her value as a breeder of equally strong children and would be a prize-wife to any man of means despite her more than humble origins. She might even be taken as a paramour by the local land-owners, a position that would offer her family a privileged position in the community.

"The Elder knew he could not compete with men of station where wealth was a factor, so instead he told the father of his own experiences as a brother to such a girl. And of stories he had heard in the various towns and villages he had passed where girls who demonstrated such gifts were labelled as being in league with dark unholy forces. That, and by the account's entrusted to the Elder. The girl, despite the many physical gift's laid upon her, was most likely also barren and incapable of conceiving children. Such a statement only legitimised the claim that his child dabbled in unholy acts, as back then this was the only explanation for such a fate. Un-Natural forces cancelled out Natural Ones. Now we know that sterility amongst Slayer's are only such during the time of their tenure. That if they fell pregnant prior to being 'Called' *"

"*Like what happened with Nikki Woods, Robin's mother."

"Yes, Buffy." Giles answered approvingly.

"*Ahem* … fell pregnant prior to being Called, then the Slayer can indeed become a mother, just as she can conceive after the Slayer Essence had left her for another Host. But between both point's, she will never be able to bore any child. The ultimate contraception method."

Buffy frown at the old man's attempt of humour. She didn't find that comment particularly funny. She never considered herself in the past as particularly 'girly', she had long since resigned herself to the knowledge that she might never have a son or a daughter of her very own. Just as all the other Slayer's had. But Robin Wood's existence bought all this into question. Now though she had an explanation as to how Robin had come about, when all other Slayer's efforts to conceive failed.

His mother, Nikki, must have gotten pregnant with him prior to the Slayer Spirit tapping her on the shoulder with the Destiny-Hard-Sell-Line. Heck, for all she knew, Nikki probably didn't even know she was pregnant when she 'agreed' to be a Slayer.

According to Robin, his mother died when he was two-and-a-half, when she was 19. That, she guessed, would put the dates about right. The only way she could become a mother would be if she had been sexually active and gotten herself all barefoot-and-preggers prior to her 16th birthday (which she didn't and wasn't), or if her Lover is able to free her from the Slayer Spirit's possession and she becomes … well, fertile, again.

"… The father, fearing that he might get painted with the same brush as his daughter, dealing with unnatural forces and allegiances, understood the indirect peril he was in. It was then that the Elder enquired into the 'nightmares'. As the father had not mentioned his child's violent night-terrors, he was left shocked, even more so when he had to concede that the fragmented dreams his daughter had claimed to have seen all had tragically come true. Using this to his advantage and as further evidence to the darkness which surrounded his daughter, the Elder petitioned the Father to relieve him of his burden. To ask for her hand in marriage."

Buffy nearly fell out of her chair at hearing this claim. "WHAT!? Are you kidding me? He's forty-something-or-other and she's what? Sixteen. They … they get married?"

Turning slightly to face the female and with a wisp of a smile on his features, the elderly Watcher answered. "Yes, my dear, they did. In actuality to be 16 a thousand years ago and not married or betrothed … well, that would have had people talking. Most children got wed as soon as they entered puberty, many even before that. Betrothal to another was not uncommon. Usually at birth, when the sex of a child was established, partners were already being sought. Oh and speaking of such, for the Elder to be … well, over forty back then, that would be the equivalent of about eighty to a hundred years in today's world."

"That … that makes it even worse!"

"Buffy."

"No Giles, it's gross."

Reginald interrupted. "It might be gross, my dear. But it was also quite the norm."

"Yeah. I've been hearing that quite a bit lately." Buffy replied bitterly.

"In fact *all* of the Slayer's original Guardian's had to marry their charges. It ensured that when they were travelling with one another, or sharing the same home or room, that no eyebrows were ever raised by outsiders. Besides, back then it was not uncommon or for that matter unexpected for young girls to be wed to … how we should say: Mature Men.

"Marriage was more a business transaction then a declaration of love. A worthy Suitor was one who carried a large purse, not one who declared to have greater passion. If you had money or something the family wanted … within reason of course … everything was open to discussion. To have been 16, beautiful and _*still*_ unmarried, well, it probably went a long way to illustrating just how impoverished this particular farmer was that even other serf's in the area did not wish to spread their seed in her field. Thinking that their family's bad-luck would become their own if they took one of their number as a wife. With her becoming a Slayer, it would be believed that these physical attributes was evidence that the family's luck had changed. And that her newly acquired virtues and blessings would be passed down and would be able to strengthen her husband's line. Overnight that child had gained exponential valve.

"The father, in suspecting that it may have been the Devil who blessed his child and not an Angel, would have been terrified. The Elder, I believe was even quite generous with his negotiations. Though he could not offer coin, he instead used his magic and potions to make the land the Farmer was allocated to work on now completely fertile and rich in all manner of nutrients. Within a season the crop yield for that land increased a dozen fold. All unaffected by fungus, disease or pests of any kind. That land remained such for the next five decades, earning the Slayer's father a higher position in his community and one of respect amongst his Peers."

"Okay, okay. I get it. Six chickens and a pig gets you a hottie for life." Buffy then began to rub her temples. "So … it was marriage in name only, right? Between Watcher's and Slayer's. Because if it wasn't then that would be way too creepy."

"I wish I could say differently, Ms Summer's. But alas I can't. Chosen Ones are typically very beautiful and I am certain there would have been more than one guardian over the last thousand years who did indeed take advantage of such a unique arrangement. After all, with the exception of the last century, most women prior to this one all recognised their role in a marriage as being submissive to the will and desire of their husband. That their place was to obey him without question and to produce them a child or children."

"But … but …" Though it was true that by this stage what Reggie was telling her was hardly a revelation, as it had been imparted to her by both Giles and Croft, it still did not make hearing it said over and over again any less palatable.

"Ms Summer's, I can appreciate your displeasure. But in truth most of the World really hasn't changed too much since back then either. Only in western societies do women embrace the whole argument of equality and marriage for love-sake. If you were to go to the Middle-East, India, Asia and some parts of South America, the women there all live a life where such unions are based on social gains and advance. Their role, if they have one, is to be servile to the husband's needs and ensure a happy family life."

Buffy shock her head, mentally discounting what was just said as true and trying to get the horrific image of herself in a white wedding gown standing at an alter opposite Giles as he slipped a wedding band on her left hand second finger. After a very visible shudder, the Slayer refocused herself. "Okay, so all Slayers' married their Watcher's. That is Icky on a thousand different levels."

"At the beginning, yes, and I suspect there was more than one Slayer who shared your 'icky' comparison to events. By the way, we weren't called Watcher's back then either. We took the name 'Elder' as a token of respect to the first of the Order and also because the name is associated towards seniority, wisdom and respect."

"Alright, but aside from just providing me with this interesting, if not disturbing history lesson. What about these 'Lovers'? When do they come into the deal?"

Giles leant forward, and addressed the question before Reginald could. "They didn't come from anywhere, Buffy. As I said, for every Slayer there is a Lover. They have been around for as long as the Slayer-Line has. But I suspect that early on, because the Slayer's were more … nomadic. Travelling from one destination to another to destroy monsters and the like, they most likely, if rarely, ever came in contact with their 'Mate'. And bear in mind their general life-expectancy before the Elder first got involved with their training and education was generally a lot shorter. It was only with the creation of the Order of Elder's that some level of structure was introduced to their hectic and random life. With that stability came more time spent in areas and awareness on how they may survive certain confrontations with certain creatures and magical wielders. And from this additional time there were more opportunities for the Slayer's 'Lover' to happen upon them. Prior to these introductions, Lover's, wouldn't have been so much as a footnote. But with extension to their lives thanks to the training they received by their Elder's, more and more Slayer's became exposed to their various Lover's. And from these … encounter's … well, we learned from trial and error. Dozens of Slayer's were lost to what was deemed by many as lustful tendencies. No one back in that time considered it as you do now: A Curse."

"Yeah? Well it is. And I take it you people didn't take to kindly to these Lover's, did you?"

The elder Watcher then spoke up. "No. Though I am also certain that many Elder's had little to no trouble finding personal scores for why they may hate or detest them. But once their influence became widely known, vilifying the Lover's became an acceptable convenience."

"Why? They can't help being what they are any more then I could in being a Slayer."

"Obviously, Buffy, many Elder's considered the threat that the Lover's posed to be quite insulting to their masculine pride and personal pleasures. These Slayer's were their wives after all. The irrational anger directed towards the Lovers of Athena was conveniently disguised o their brethren as a hindrance to their righteous crusade upon Evil. But when you read between the lines of history … cut it down to the bone … unravel it all … what you end up seeing in the cold light of day is that this chosen antagonism was purely self-serving. That they had all, more or less, camouflaged their fear of inadequacy and propped it up to being 'concern' over the Lover's potential threat towards their various female Charges. And as such, because of the 'risk' they posed it was widely thought that they should all be either removed or … eliminated."

Buffy leaned forward in her chair, allowing the gravity of those words to sink in and realisation of their implications dawn in her mind. "Are … are you saying that you guys started to … No.? No, you wouldn't. You didn't! Did you? Please say you didn't."

Solemnly Rupert Giles nodded his head. "I am sorry to say, Buffy but we did. The Lovers were deemed a danger to the effectiveness of our Slayer's. Valuable time and effort was spent on their training and longevity. A Lover would nullify all that toil and effort. Placing us in the unenviable position of hunting down the next 'Chosen'. And that could take, back then, months … even years, to do so. Remember, Buffy, to travel across Europe back in those day could take the average person months, not days as it does now. Factor in that they would have to use scrying, which is an inaccurate form of divination at best in locating possible candidates. And still it could be quite the task to find the next Slayer-in-Line. Lover's, Buffy, were looked upon as the highest instrument that evil ever created. And they were treated as such. They were a peril and many Elder's felt that they needed to be eliminated just as much as Vampires, Witches and Demon's did."

Archer Snr then contributed to the discussion, offering his former-student a break from speaking for a moment and perhaps hope that he might be able to 'soften' the young Slayer's negative perceptions to his Order in its 'younger days'.

"To combat their harmful influence, most Elder's chose to isolate their Slayer's from any social contact. Choosing to deny them connection with any and every male and forcing upon them a very lonesome life. One that _only_ permitted her to leave her home in the dead of the evening and returning pre-sunrise."

Buffy nodded, now appreciating the true origin to the Jamaican Slayer's life of isolation. "Like what Kendra's Watcher did to her. Yeah, I remember the first time she met, Xander. She acted like she had never spoken to a teenage boy in her entire life."

"Yes … err … exactly." Giles said nervously. "Anyway, when a Slayer started to experience a confusing attraction to a particular individual, their first impulse was of course to confess these growing feelings to their 'husbands'. The Elder would then take action in-order to prevent any further contact with that young man."

"But that didn't work, did it? Not all the time."

"No, Buffy. You cannot cheat Fate, no matter what kind of precautions you may implement in-order to do so. Generally though, Lovers, were seen by our predecessor's to being people worth avoiding at all costs. Prevention, as they say, can be better than the cure. Many saw avoidance preferable. And when that failed, sometimes a bit of intimidation and threats. If those failed? Well only then did Elder's take it to the next undesired and 'decisive' level. It was not until the early 1800's that this … did our … overall mandate change."

"A Dark Day." Reginald grumbled out. He then chose to enlighten the young female. "There was a Russian Elder, an obscene chap by accounts. Not much liked or respected by his Brother–Elder's, but that didn't prevent him from getting his own Slayer. Sometimes my dear, these things don't work out as ideally as people would like. Sometimes who gets assigned to you is more on who is the closest then who is the better choice. Anyway, as with all Elder's before him he married his Charge. Typically there is some restitution to the family, a dowry of sorts. Much like what the First Elder did with his First Slayer's Family. Not in this case. If my memory is still keen, I do believe he had threatened the girl's mother, father, brothers and grandmother with a powerful Hex if she did not wed him. A self-serving monster of a man. She, of course, had no choice. They married. I dread to imagine what their Wedding Night would have been like. At any rate, within four months, she lost her powers. She could not lift the same weight she had lifted the day before. And the Elder noticed that her reflexes were also off. To give credence to his suspicions he then 'accidentally' cut her. Now Ms Summer's, how long does it take you to completely heal from a simple cut?"

"I dunno, two … maybe three hours. No scar or anything."

"Exactly. That's about average. Imagine his surprise when the very next day he noticed that her cut was still healing? Something had happened to her, something that had sapped her of all her slaying abilities. Her Elder was not a stupid man; not by any accounts. There were only a handful of explanations for such a thing and all he was able to discount … except for one. That night, as she bid him leave to go out and do her Patrols of the nearby farms and field's. He incanted a tracking spell to latch onto her. After an hour he followed the invisible thread to the source. He discovered her in a barn, three farms over. She was in the throes of passion with the Farmer's son who had just returned from studying in Saint Petersburg."

"Her Lover?"

"Yes. The Elder was full of rage. But he wasn't going to show it to them. He was not going to allow them to see his humiliation. To be their cuckold. He returned back to his own Farm and proceeded to make her evening fast. A brothy-stew. Only this meal was laced with light-traces of Hemlock, Mandrake and several other poison's. She returned at her usual time and he asked of her success. She lied. Told him she had slayed three Vampires. He congratulated her, but deep down he was seething at her attempts to further deceive him. He produced her late dinner and she ate it down without question. It was not until an hour later that pain suddenly took hold of her. By his Journal's account he said it took her four-days to die. One organ slowly failing after another. Her Elder at her side the entire time, using his skills to keep her alive as long as possible so her pain could endure. Whispering in her 17-year old ear that he knew of her infidelity and that as soon as she was dead he would visit her Lover and do even worst to him. The poor child. I imagine she held out for as long as she could in the hopes that her husband would spare the Farm Boy if he thought she had suffered enough for the two of them. How wrong she was. It was the first time in Elder history when an Elder was responsible for the death of his very own Slayer. Never before had that happened. It went against the very pledge the First Elder ever made to protect and care for those burdened with your destiny.

"At any rate, when she passed, the Elder stormed up to the Father of the boy's door and claimed that his son had been having an adulterous affair with his wife. That she had become so guilt ridden by the affair that she had killed herself by poison after confessing her sin to him.

"The son was devastated at hearing this news. He hastily withdrew into himself, becoming uncommunicative towards learning of the death of his great love."

"This, Buffy, was one of the other possible outcomes of a Lover who loses their Slayer. A Lover is so devoted to their partner that when they are 'gone' they are left with a chasm in their heart and soul that cannot be replaced. They longing for death can be greater than any desire for vengeance."

"Err … yes … regardless, the boy was dragged before the town's court and told to swear an oath towards his innocence at the Husband's allegation. Either that or he risked the damnation of his soul. Fearing for his eternal reward the boy spoke the truth and admitted that he had indeed been carnal with another man's wife, just as the Elder had said. For this act, as few acts were deemed greater then wilful adultery, the boy was condemned to death.

"As was the custom in Russia at the time, and as he was perceived as the grieved party, it was the husband … the girl's Elder … who chose the method of the boy's execution".

"You're kidding. That bastard chose how her Lover was to die?"

Giles leaned forward and nodded. "Sadly, yes. And from memory, it wasn't at all pleasant. He even ensured that every Holy Man be barred from either seeing or hearing him speak."

"Why? What would the purpose of that be?"

The elder Watcher piped in. "So that he could be denied his final confession and make right his peace with God for all his earthly and mortal transgressions. Without the exoneration of his sin's the boy's soul faced eternity in emptiness."

"But … but that's not true. We *know* that's not true. I mean I didn't make any final confession and I*"

"*Yes, Buffy, I know. But this young man didn't. As far as he was concerned, he was going to die and his Spirit would be forever denied either forgiveness or entry into Heaven."

Buffy was momentarily stunned into silence at the consequences of what she had just heard. Unable to comprehend how such an injustice could be permitted, even 200 years ago.

"Yes. That Human-Monster kept his promise to his Slayer. He made sure that young man suffered more than any one should have. Typically, these types of executions are matter of course. Often beheading. Blood-Letting. Hangings. This Elder though wanted something more memorable. Something that told people far and wide, to never cross him."

Buffy swallowed. She didn't want to know, but her personal indignation almost demanded that she ask. "How? How was he ex…. Killed?"

Archer Snr, closed his eyes, in an effort to exercise the image from his mind. "By the Blood Eagle Method."

Giles nodded again, solemnly. Buffy's brow crunched in confusion. The Head Watcher took pity on her confusion and answered her un-asked question. "The Blood Eagle, Buffy, is an old Nordic means of executing those who have committed a great wrong. One that is reserved for traitors and cowards in battle. The victim is forced to lay face down on a table whilst the executioner cuts slits in their back exposing and then allowing access to their ribcage. The ribcage is then cut in such a fashion that they can be manipulated outwards … assuming the shape of wings.

"The executioner then turns the victim over, placing them on their back. Still conscious, he then draws out from the still living victim aspects of the person's internal organs, all without disconnecting them from the body. Liver, intestines, stomach. It sounds impossible, I know. But with a broken ribcage, the confines that keep these organs housed and in place are easily accessible. Salt is then spread over the organs to promote even greater anguish. Stories tell that a truly skilled executioner can make the ordeal last two-to-three hours. It is said, however, that prior to this young man's execution, the Elder, slipped a special potion into his 'last meal'. One that would suspend his bodily responses."

"What would be the purposes of that?"

Reginald offered Giles a reprieve. "To force his body to 'die' slowly. So that poor soul's horrific ordeal could be prolonged beyond any logical reason and conceivable possibility. I believe he lived for a full two-days, screaming in agony the entire time. It was only through the mercy of his Executioner, who could not bear the young man's torment any further, that a killing blow was finally delivered. Only in that instant did that young man know peace."

An icy shiver flowed down Buffy's spine. "That's beyond evil. What the Hell kinda of screening did you people do back then to ever let this psycho look after any Slayer?! Please tell me this … animal … died a death that will make me puke my guts out at hearing."

Both Watcher's looked at each other, both urging the other to break the news to the female and quash her hopes of a just Universe and Karma. Eventually, Giles, took the que. "He did die, Buffy. Poisoned by the other Elder's. But it was as peaceful a death as they could manage. He was one of their own after all. But punishment had to merited out and he needed to be made an example of."

"Well I guess that's something. I mean he killed his Slayer and an innocent boy *"

"*That wasn't why he was killed." Reginald spoke up, ending abruptly Buffy's words. "He was murdered by the Elder Tribunal for being 'indiscreet'."

"Indiscreet?"

"Yes, Buffy. *We* are a Secret Order. Emphasis on *Secret*. The Russian Elder, in taking his vengeance to a public forum. He cast a light upon his Slayer and himself, and potentially he could have exposed the existence of the Order to the uneducated World. We, as you know, do our best work in the shadows, not the light. He needed to be made accountable. And he was."

"But not after he had said his piece." Reginald offered.

Buffy looked back and forth between the two men. "What do you mean?"

Archer Snr, leaned closer to the blonde Slayer. "He put on Record what everybody thought, but no one ever said. He told the Tribunal that his actions were the actions of a just man. A wronged man. That because of this Lover, his Slayer's potential would now never be realised. That every death that could not now be saved in his region was because she had ceased being a Slayer. That this failure was not upon *his* head, or her's. But upon the head of the Lover. That what he did was justice on her and the Lover was for all the lives that now could not be saved. That the Order needed to change how they formally dealt with this on-going threat. That we had to stop treating this matter as an inconvenience. Otherwise Slayer after Slayer would be lost. And more innocent death would be raked up as a result. That 'we' either served the Light and the Innocent, or 'we' didn't. Basically Ms Summer's, he repeated the argument first presented by Edmund Burke a decade or so earlier: 'All that is necessary for Evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.' And the Tribunal considered themselves to being *all* very good men, indeed. After he had been buried, laid to rest and had his name stricken from every Journal Entry and Tome reconvened. The Tribunal chose to deliberate for twenty days on his argument. On the 21st a decision was made and it would be adhered to for the rest of Time."

"Oh yeah? What was that?"

"That every Slayer's Guardian would take sole responsibility for their Slayer. Their fate would be tied to the fate of their Charge. Only if a Slayer died in the execution of her duty, was it deemed acceptable. But if a Slayer lost her abilities, then that would be the fault of their Teacher and Guardian. And as such they would have to submit to either disgrace and/or an honourable death."

"You're kidding me."

"No." Giles gently answered. "Over the next decade, we even stopped referring to ourselves as Elder's."

Buffy nodded, now understanding why Giles never referred to himself as such. But it was still a curiosity to 'why'. Her unasked question must have been apparent as Giles proceeded to offer her an explanation.

"Buffy, do you recall the number of times that whenever I disagreed with one of your various short-sighted and ill-conceived plans … Whenever I challenged you on how you were dealing with an issue … Whenever we would bang heads … You kept bringing up the fact that the decision, at the end of the day, was yours and yours alone. Your's, because 'Destiny' had made it so. That you were *the* Slayer and that I was only a Watcher. That this was what I was good at … 'Watching'?"

"err … yeah … I … I seem to recall saying something like that once or twice." Buffy mumbled out. "I guess I might have been a bit harsh*"

"When have I ever just 'Watched', Buffy? I have trained and educated you. I have assisted you with strategies. I have healed and repaired your body on more occasions then I wish to recall. I have been at your side during Patrol's and on Mission's that could easily have led to a full-scale Armageddon. I have made myself a resource for you, as a teacher, a friend and also as the proverbial father-figure in your life. I have never been a pedestrian as you have claimed. I was never someone who has just sat upon the bleachers and just 'watched' you go forth into battle." Giles then took a moment to pause, permitting his words to catch-up in his former-Slayer's memories. "*YOU*, Buffy, were never the one I was 'WATCHING' out for."

The Slayer's mouth went ajar, taking her several seconds to put the facts together and coming up with only one conceivable solution to what was just shared. "Are you saying that all this time … my 'Lover' was the one who you…*"

"Of course he is you silly girl. You really are not the brightest of the bright, are you?" Reginald Archer spoke out in annoyance. "Two Centuries ago we diverted our practices to make identifying our Slayer's Lover's a priority. We even stopped referring to ourselves as the Order of Elder's and assumed the name The Watcher's Council."

Blowing a strand of golden hair from off her forehead and trying to control her annoyance at being called all by 'stupid', Buffy, reacted the only way she knew how. By asking a stupid, and to her, obvious question. Hey, if she was going to be treated like a Duck, she might as well quack like one. "Okay. But why call yourself the Council? Why not just call yourselves the Watcher's Order? Or the Order of Watcher's?"

Reginald and Rupert Giles again looked at each other uncomfortably with regards to Buffy's inquiries. It was her former Watcher who spoke first.

"Um… Because, Buffy, that name was already taken by an Organisation slightly more secretive and a great deal older than our own. And they had a well established reputation of being quite … territorial."

"Huh?"

"Basically, my dear Girl, there _can-be-only-one_, and let's just leave it at that, shall we."

Buffy wasn't so certain, but she thought that Archer Snr. had just made a joke. But she had no idea what the punch line of it was. Yet whatever 'funny-ha-ha' it was, it was enough to make Giles offer a small secretive smile at his former teacher. She also noted that the atmosphere within the room had now also changed. It had become … thicker.

In her gut she knew, whatever it was that Giles was too scared to tell her alone, she just *knew* it would be revealed in the next 5-minutes. She also knew that whatever it was it had the potential of rocking what she knew about the Slayer-Line to the very foundations. She just hoped she was strong enough to 'deal' when she found it out.

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_I hope you enjoyed this 'catch-up'. I am now offering you, the reader a chance to decide what my next instalment will be. So please vote. The next chapter could be:_

_The continuation of Xander's heroic rescue of the Walker Twin's and his run in with a certain 'Walking Ghost' who misunderstands that Xander is trying to help his children and is not the kidnapper of them_

_OR_

_We learn the shocking truth to that Slayer's that Giles has tried to keep hidden from Buffy. Why Giles once told Buffy that the Council had experiences dealing with 'Dark' Slayer's? Why the only English phrase the First Slayer ever speaks is 'Death is my Gift'? Who was the mysterious 'Cheese-Man' from the dream-episode?_

_As you all know. I love reviews, constructive ones. And I am happy to try and answer as many questions as possible, as long as it doesn't risk giving too much away …._

_Finally, this chapter is dedicated to all the Xander-Fic Writer's … especially my friend's Xanderrocksthehouse and cmdruhura._

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